Natasha's Nightmare
by Fiercelyyours
Summary: A continuation of "Natasha's Redemption," Nat and Cap struggle to coexist with minds and emotions that are connected as Natasha battles the demons of her past. When Natasha's nightmares become reality, both Natasha and Steve pay a price. Romanogers
1. Chapter 1

Natasha's scream echoed down the hallway of the Avengers tower and inside the mind of Steve Rogers, causing him to leap from his bed and run three doors down to Natasha's room before he was even fully aware of being awake. It had been three months since the Romanoff Revolution and Natasha's return from Wakanda after being sent away to heal from the wounds inflicted by Everett Ross. Natasha's recovery had been miraculously quick thanks to Steve's blood donation, but the super serum combined with Wanda's power had caused unforeseen side effects. Steve and Natasha's minds and emotions were now intimately connected and it was taking some getting used to.

Steve opened the door to Natasha's room quickly scanned for danger, but found nothing. He sighed in relief, she was just having another nightmare. He watched her with compassion as she tossed and turned, her face crumpled in fear, sweat making her hair stick to her face. Waking her from these dreams had proven difficult. Natasha's Red Room training had conditioned her to awaken rather violently, which Steve had found out the hard way. They had woken the whole tower once, Steve struggling to remove her hands from his throat before she woke up enough to realize it was him. The teasing afterwards had been merciless and suggestive. Steve blushed just thinking about it. Shaking or calling out to her was out of the question, waking her from within the dream was gentler, and their connection allowed only him to do it.

Kneeling by her bed Steve draped an arm over her gently and closed his eyes to concentrate. When he opened them he looked around to take in his new surroundings. Natasha's dreamscape was constantly changing, sometimes she was in Russia, sometimes the Avengers tower, but it never appeared in exactly the same way. This time he found himself in a rundown castle. He frowned, trying to place where he was. Hearing Natasha cry out, he ran to her, she was on her side on the stone floor, pain etched into her face, lying at the feet of Everett Ross. He kicked her in the stomach, doubling her over. Ross began to speak, and Steve heard the words that had haunted Natasha for weeks.

 _This is your place in the world, curled up in defeat. The pain will burn away your debts._

Natasha shuddered, seeming unable to move. Ross leaned in closer to whisper words that Steve had overheard in Natasha's dreams many times before, _You failed. Steve will die because of you_.

" _Steve…"_ Natasha croaked, stress making her sweat, tears streaming silently down her face.

Ross nodded with a smile, " _He will join you soon…"_ Raising his hand, Ross held up a small controller like the one he had used on her back at the military base after her capture. Natasha blanched at the sight of it, her breathing spiking in terror.

Steve flew across the floor to reach her, this was where the dream always turned ugly. Natasha's eyes were wide in dream induced terror, Steve had never seen her this way awake, not even when she had experienced this nightmare in the waking world. Natasha always appeared calm and in charge, which had made experiencing her emotions first hand a real shock for Steve.

"You feel this all the time but you hide it? Isn't it exhausting?" He asked her once. Natasha had smirked at him to hide her embarrassment, "I only act like I know everything Rogers." After a moment she had frowned, thoughtful, and then shrugged.

"It's what I was trained to do."

Here in her dream, none of her training helped her. She was captive to her own mind, terror showing clearly across her face. He skidded on his knees in front of her and took her in his arms. Natasha looked shocked when she saw him, but as her eyes flickered to Ross the fear returned. Steve shook his head and took her face in his hands, she was the only thing in this dreamscape that was solid to him. "Natasha, look at me, I want you to take a deep breath and tell me, what color are my eyes?" Natasha looked at him, and after a moment took a shuddering breath, faint recognition showing on her face, "Blue,' she said softly, "They're blue." Steve smiled, "Can you feel me with you?" Natasha thought for a moment, then nodded, her hand finding his. Without letting go of her Steve swung at Ross, his fist passing through him like a ghost. Steve turned back to her, "What does that mean?" Understanding and relief sparked in her eyes, "I'm dreaming." Natasha's eyes snapped open, and Steve sat up and looked at her in the dim lighting.

She pushed herself upright, a flicker of residual fear crossing her features. Steve watched as her expression quickly resumed its usual calm expression. Natasha took deliberate breaths to slow her heart rate, She put her face in her hands with a sigh and muttered, "I'm sorry for waking you again." She wiped the sweat off her forehead.

Steve smiled a tired smile, sitting on the edge of her bed and squeezing her hand, "But look how quickly you realized it was a dream this time!"

Natasha nodded and looked up at him, "It does help when you make me focus like that. I just wish I could get these dreams to stop."

Steve pushed her hair out of her eyes, "Soon you won't need me to show you you're dreaming. You will be a lucid dreamer like me and wake up whenever you want." He softened as he felt her discouragement, "Not a lot of time has passed since your capture, don't be so hard on yourself."

"Still, it isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to me. I'm not sure why that scene wants to repeat itself in my head."

Steve felt her mind flicker to other, darker memories and then snap back to the present with a force of will. He touched her chin, and her eyes flickered up to his reluctantly, "You ok?"

Natasha shrugged and nodded quickly, trying to brush it aside, but Steve could hear her thoughts, could sense her emotions. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. She stiffened, then relaxed. "I'm fine, I'm not going anywhere," he whispered into her hair, "You protected me, and I'll protect you." Natasha gave a shuddering sigh. Having him know her every thought was unnerving. She was sure she would never get used to it.

In the days following her return to the Avengers Tower Natasha and Steve had spent long nights on the roof of the tower, their favorite place, watching the city lit up with life and asking questions to help sort out their new connection.

Steve had found that he could feel the motion of Natasha's mind, but could only read her thoughts if she was thinking about him specifically. He had tried to describe it to her one night, "It feels a lot like simply being good at reading expressions to learn about what's going on inside someone's head, only I can do it with you even when you keep your face blank. I don't know what specifically you are thinking about, but I know when you're thinking about your past, or planning something, or just letting your mind wander. I know when you're happy or sad, angry or disappointed." He had glanced up at her then, and looked carefully into her calm stare, "I know that this revelation is terrifying you right now… I'm sorry."

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and stared at her hands, "Don't be sorry. I'm just… processing. I'm a spy, and this new ability means no more secrets, not from you. I don't know how to feel about it."

He looked at her, wishing he could do something. Her red hair fell in a curtain across her face, her green eyes still staring thoughtfully into her hands. A cool night breeze made her soft curls flutter, and he could suddenly smell her perfume. His stomach did a funny jolt. She was so beautiful.

Natasha looked up at him suddenly, a slow mischievous smile crossing her face.

Steve stared at her, wide eyed, "What?"

She grinned, "I've never experienced my effect on people first hand before, until now." She leaned towards him, teasing, and Steve made to steal a kiss, but Natasha had leaned back again with a quick flutter of nerves that she quickly pushed away. She flashed him a smile, "Here's a secret I'll share, I don't wear perfume. What you smell is my shampoo." She winked at him and pushed him playfully with her foot.

Steve blushed and laughed, "Zero privacy of thought. Lovely. Well, I do like how you smell, whatever you use." He thought for a moment, "Nat, how did you shut me out when I was trying to find you in Wakanda?"

"What?"

"You shut me out. I would try to talk with you, back before Wanda told me it would drive you insane-"

"Yeah thanks for that by the way."

"My pleasure. But you shut me out and I couldn't sense you until you fell asleep and the walls came down."

Natasha put her chin in her hand, thoughtful. "I didn't know I was doing anything special. I guess I was just doing what I always do whenever I can't focus, I just cut off everything except the task at hand. I shut every emotion out. The only downside to doing that is that I always have to deal with the emotions later. Do you think it would work for keeping my thoughts to myself?"

"Let's try it!" Steve got up and started pacing excitedly. Natasha got up and stopped him, taking his hand in hers.

"Wait. I don't know if I want to."

"What? Why?"

She played with his fingers, "As much as it sucks not to have privacy in my mind, I don't think blocking you out is fair… And it's not like you hear every thought. I could be fantasizing about Tony and all you would know was how I felt about the fantasy."

Steve looked at her suspiciously, "You fantasize about Tony?" She looked up at him quickly, feeling how his heart sank, "No!" She shuddered, "No. I only meant that my specific thoughts are still mine. And if I cut off my emotions from you, I'll have to do it 24/7, or else it will be super suspicious when one day I cut you off from them. Maybe being open is just better."

Steve looked down at her and shook his head, "Nat, there are going to be things that you want to keep to yourself. I don't ever want you to feel that this connection is oppressive, or that it makes your life unpleasant. If you have the ability to shut me out, I think you should learn how it works."

"But Steve, can you shut me out?"

"I don't think so, my version feels like a walkie talkie. I can talk to and hear you if you think about me specifically, and I feel what you feel."

"Mine works the same, I can only hear you when you think about me. It's interesting to feel the emotions of a guy.."

Steve raised his eyebrow at that but wanted to stay on track, "Then it's only fair, I have mind motion skills and you don't, and you have blocking skills that I don't. You need to practice. I want you to be safe in your own head."

She had smiled at him sadly, "Steve, that hasn't happened since the day I graduated from the Red Room."

Holding her now as she calmed, he wished she could build a wall to keep out these dreams, but that simply wasn't how her gift worked. Steve bent and kissed her forehead, "Ok, I'm going to go back now."

Natasha caught his hand, "No stay." She blinked up at him, "Please? Just until I fall asleep?" He could feel a tremor of anxiety about the dream returning, and the comfort his presence would be. She looked up at him, knowing he felt her anxiety, "She grimaced, "You never knew I was such a wimp before all this did you?" He smiled, and Natasha felt his warm response.

"Move over," he said, pushing her playfully, and climbed under the covers with her. She wrapped her arms around him, her cheek pressed against his chest and sighed. Only at night after she woke from a nightmare did she allow herself to be this affectionate. Steve had struggled to understand her distance, and he suspected that she was already withholding her feelings from him, even if she wasn't fully aware of it. She needed time to sort out her thoughts without interruption, and he intended to give it to her. For now, he enjoyed her closeness.

Natasha tilted her head up to him pointedly, and he kissed her, making his whole body warm, butterflies erupting in his stomach. Natasha laughed, burying her head in his shirt again.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not! I just love your response to my kisses." She mumbled against his chest, "They're encouraging." She smiled and gave him a squeeze that Steve returned, kissing the top of her head. As he ran his hand over her hair and down her back, Natasha's breathing grew gradually slower and deeper, until she drifted off to sleep. As Steve looked down at her, his heart seemed to swell. He was the one she trusted to have her back, to be with her as she slept. She had chosen to trust him; the gravity and weight of her choice made him stand taller. He was fiercely determined to never make her regret that decision. Steve pressed Natasha closer for a moment, relishing the silence of her thoughts and feelings that sleep brought so that he might examine his own. "You will always be safe with me," he whispered into her hair, "No matter what."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Natasha woke to her alarm clock blaring. Lashing out she struck it to silence, and a crash informed her that she had yet again broken the clock. She grumbled sleepily and rolled to her side as she reached out to find Steve. The bed was empty. Squinting around the sunlit room she sighed. He never stayed. He would always stay when she asked him to, but left once she fell asleep. When she had confronted him about it he had shrugged, "It's just how I was raised."

It was that good wholesome upbringing that had her worried. In time, Steve would come to know all of her past, not just what the internet knew, but her own personal experiences and the choices she had made. Because their thoughts were connected she couldn't hide anymore. She knew her experiences had shaped who she was, and she knew that it was not anything like who Steve was.

She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, wild from her tossing and turning throughout the night. These nightmares were getting ridiculous, she couldn't have Steve constantly being woken to the sound of her cowardice. She always woke up shaken and weak from fear. Too often she asked him to stay and then behaved affectionately when she wasn't even really sure if it was a good idea.

Suddenly nervous that Steve could hear her thoughts, Natasha forced her mind to silence, listening for him. All was quiet. He was either asleep, or simply not thinking about her. She jumped out of bed and poked her head out her door and into the hallway, catching Wanda as she was passing by.

"Wanda, have you seen Steve?"

Wanda gave her a look of pity."Trying to have a moment of peace?"

Natasha nodded with a rueful smile.

"He's not here. He left earlier to run some errands in town."

Natasha made a face at her, "I just need some free thought time." Wanda nodded, "I understand." She paused, "You know, if you ever wanted to practice blocking him out…" She shrugged. He wouldn't have to know. It can't be easy for you..."

Natasha looked at her solemnly for a moment, "I don't know Wanda.. He can't block me out..."

Wanda gave her a small smile, "I don't imagine that Steve Rogers has much to hide…"

Natasha's face grew serious, and she nodded and closed the door, leaning her back against it. She slid down until she was sitting and put her head in her hands. He probably didn't have anything to hide. Certain that Steve wouldn't hear she let her mind rifle through the memories she so feared him seeing. Murder after murder floated behind her eyelids, the many faces of her victims, memories of a past life, of one man in particular who reminded her so much of Steve... Natasha shuddered and flinched from the memory.

She stretched her bare legs out before her. It had been so easy back then. One night was all it had ever taken to get information she had needed, sex was her sharpest tool. Some were easier than others. She rarely felt guilt for killing men who would beat their women and murder those who got in their seduced them and disposed of them without a second thought. But occasionally her target would turn out to be a good man, in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she would have to use a different strategy. One that, had she stopped to think about it, made her uneasy. She was small, desireable, and appeared so utterly helpless. Tears worked like magic on these kind men. Moved by chivalry and a sense of duty, they would bend over backward to help her, and many fell in love. In the days just before Clint had found her and she had dedicated her life to making up for what she had done, she had met a man who remained an open wound in her mind and heart.

He had been so like Steve, only without the experiences of a soldier. He was kind, his eyes soft towards her. That was the first thing she had noticed about Kristoff, his blue eyes were like a window to his soul, and she knew as soon as she saw him that he was a good man.

Natasha clenched her fists, teeth gritted. She shook her head and went to sit on her bed. _You need to remember, you owe him that much,_ she thought fiercely at herself. It had been so long since she had opened that vault of memories in her mind, and she feared what she would find there. _You need to sort this out… For Steve…_ Natasha closed her eyes, and began to remember...


	3. Chapter 3

_Target is staying at the Lions head hotel, room 302. He is a Psychiatrist working with German scientist Dr. Liam Hershkanuk who is being held by the Americans in a military prison. Natalia, Russia needs that doctor. Get the information we will need to extract him and don't get caught. Failure to comply will result in grave consequences._

Natasha rolled her eyes. Every mission directive she had received since she was old enough to be sent on missions had ended in that line. "Failure to comply will result in grave consequences." She had been on so many missions, and was held in such high regard by the KGB that the line was mostly tradition, though she was always very thorough in her work, just in case. Her childhood had been filled with those grave consequences, and she was quite enjoying the freedom her elite status was buying her. She intended to keep it that way.

Reading the note once more to commit it to memory, Natasha threw it into the fire and watched it burn until it was nothing but ash. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror of her hotel room. She smiled, flashing white teeth and making her eyes sparkle. She examined her outfit, her black dress was conservative but formal, accentuating her small waist and curvy frame. She adjusted the neckline slightly lower, applied color to her lips and nodded. Taking out her knife, a wicked looking curved blade, she eyed it thoughtfully, then pulled it methodically across her shoulder, tearing her dress and biting into her skin. Crimson blossomed bright from the wound and trickled down her arm. Taking one last look in the mirror, she turned and left the room.

As she walked down the street she began working up the tears she would need for this encounter. The further she walked, the more her eyes watered and soon she had tears streaming down her face. That was the one good thing about never showing emotion, they were always built up and on hand when you needed to release them.

Her heels clicked along the sidewalk, punctuating her very step, faster and faster until she was running full tilt down the street, tears blurring her vision. As she turned the corner she collided violently with a man directly in her path, sending her tumbling across the sidewalk, scraping up her legs and sending the contents of her purse spilling out into the street. He looked at her, aghast, "Miss I'm so sorry!" As he reached out to help her to her feet she cringed and shrunk from his touch, her green eyes wide, her beautiful face wet with tears. The man withdrew his hand, suddenly seeing the blood spilling from the knife wound in her shoulder. He looked at her aghast, her legs smeared with blood from her fall, her palms having met the same fate. She trembled but looked at him fiercely, like an animal backed into a corner. His face was a picture of smoldering outrage, but he spoke in a gentle tone, "Ma'am, are you in some kind of trouble? Because you're safe now, from whoever it is. I won't hurt you, and I won't let anyone else hurt you either." As he offered his hand again slowly, Natasha calmed slightly and took it, wiping away fresh tears with the back of her hand.

The man got her to her feet and steered her gently to a bench nearby. Taking a handkerchief out of his pocket he offered it to her, "Press this to your shoulder to stop the bleeding. Let me gather your things for you. Rest here a minute."

Natasha's eyes followed him, calculating. He was well dressed and put together in his suit. He had dark hair, almost black, and moved with self assurance that Natasha appreciated. As he turned back to her, purse in hand, she noticed his eyes. They were a beautiful ice blue. Her targets weren't usually so pleasant to look at. She suddenly felt very grateful that she had been ordered only to provide information for his capture. She pushed that thought away.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her her things, "I- I'm sorry I ran into you."

"I'm not," he said with a strained smile, "You look like you need friend. Will you tell me what happened?"

Natasha glanced around furtively, "I was attacked by two men a little further up the street.." She shuddered.

His eyes hardened,"You were attacked?"

Another tear slipped down her face in confirmation, she wiped it away and took a deep breath that hitched in her throat, "I tried to stop them but they took my money, my I.D," she started to cry anew, "They pulled a knife on me. I thought they were going to kill me."

He shook his head, clearly still upset, and looked around warily as though the attackers might have followed her. He offered his arm, "Come with me to the community house where I'm staying," he said. They can take care of you there and we will be safer. Then we can figure out what to do about this." She looked up at him uncertainly for a moment, but then took his arm. She looked up at him and smiled. He held her grateful gaze for a moment too long, struck by her beauty. She saw in his eyes that he was starting to fall…


	4. Chapter 4

A knock on her door startled Natasha out of her thoughts, "Nat? Are we not training today?" Steves voice made Natasha's stomach clench in anxiety, what had he heard?

"... I didn't hear anything Nat, your thoughts are safe."

"Ugh, just come in Steve." Steve opened the door hesitantly. "Just let me change really fast and I'll head over to the training room with you. Sorry I'm late." She grabbed some pants out of a drawer and made to start putting them on. Steve quickly darted his eyes down and away, edging back towards the door. Natasha looked up, her hands on her waistband, listening to his thoughts. "Seriously? You're leaving?"

"Nat I'm just trying to keep my head above water here, you can hear every thought I have about you and I would rather you not hear… you know.. every thought."

"You've got to be kidding me. I just woke up, I haven't showered, I'm gross."

"You have no concept of your effect on men."

Natasha looked at him, still poised to change. With a wicked grin, she slipped the edge of her pants below her hip bone, "Too much for you Rogers?" To her amusement, a look of panic crossed his face and she started catching thoughts that he half stopped, but not in time to hide them from her. Briefly, images of Natasha and Steve floated through both their heads, skin on skin, breathless. As Natasha listened, transfixed, his thoughts suddenly changed. Steve remembered what she had told him one night about a particularly terrible Red Room punishment. Steve's mind switched to his own memory of her lying at the feet of Everett Ross only months ago, her suffering causing him real pain. His fantasies quickly fled.

Slowly, Natasha adjusted her pants back in place, staring at Steve.

Answering her unasked question Steve thought at her, " _I won't be added to the list of people who hurt you. Your experience with men has been a nightmare. You use and get used, and that's not what I want for you."_ He hesitated a moment, " _Especially if we ever…"_ He shook his head.

"I won't be that guy," he said out loud. Natasha just stared at him, not knowing what to say. "I'll meet you in the training room," Steve said briskly as he turned and walked out the door.

Natasha fought furiously for control over her own thoughts, determined not to make the connection between Steve and Kristoff until Steve was safely occupied and not listening. She went to the mirror and began methodically brushing her hair, focusing on every detail of the daily ritual until her mind was numb and totally absorbed in her task. She put the brush down and set about changing her clothes. Only when she had made her bed and fished the broken clock out from behind her bedstand did she dare to listen for Steve. Cautiously she searched for him. He was in the training room, his mind purposefully blank as he focused on his drill with the heavy bags.

Natasha sat heavily on her bed. _I won't be that guy._ She felt nauseous….

* * *

 _You have failed to deliver us the information we need. Prepare target for extraction._

Natasha stared at the note on her bedside table, a feeling of dread rolling through her. She shook herself. He was just a man. _Don't start believing your own con Natalia._ She had more pressing things to worry about then the welfare of one man. Like her own skin. She hadn't failed a mission in years, but that wouldn't stop them from punishing her for it. She shuddered.

Kristoff had been unlike any target she had ever had. He was so joyful, so carefree. He was kind to everyone, even the wretched looking beggars on the street. And on top of it all, he seemed genuinely interested in who she was. The problem was, when he asked her questions about herself she didn't know the real answers. It made her think. Who was she? Where did the KGB stop and Natalia Romanoff begin?

Kristoff spent so much time learning about her that she found it incredibly difficult to turn the topic back to him. Most men loved talking about themselves, making themselves feel important by telling her their secrets. The ones that didn't she simply got into bed and they would tell her anything she wanted to know. But Kristoff seemed morally unassailable, and the more time she spent with him, the less she desired to use him in that way. She had spent a full week with him and gotten no useful information. Her superiors were furious.

Natasha looked at herself in the mirror, gripping the sides of the bathroom counter so hard that he knuckles turned white. This was simply a momentary lack of judgement. She would get him to a place in the open where he could be easily taken. They would torture him for information and he would die. She would bear her punishment like the hardened spy she was and move on from this. Everyone had off days, this was just her turn. He was only one man.

She turned on her heel and strode out the door to meet him.

"Natalia." Kristoff let her name roll off his tongue, "It suits you so much more than Sasha! Why did you give me a fake name?"

Natasha smiled grimly, linking her arm in his, "It's Russian. I don't use it around here because Russians tend to be… distrusted." _And rightly so_ , she thought to herself moodily. Why keep secrets from him? He would be dead within the week.

Kristoff grinned down at her, "Always so paranoid. This is America! You're safe now." He kissed the side of her head and grinned. His smile was infectious, and she felt the corners of her mouth turn up in spite of herself.

"I'm glad you told me. It's a beautiful name." He smiled at her kindly before stepping away to make a purchase.

She watched him as he bought them some roasted chestnuts from a street vendor, striking up a conversation with the older man at the cart. She pulled her wrap around her more tightly, but she was chilled by more than the crisp autumn air.

"Here, to ward off the cold," he said handing her the chestnuts, "Natalia," he said as though testing the name, "Natalia."

Natasha tugged his arm. "Kristoff, don''t use it in public." Natasha looked around fearfully,certain her handlers were close. Telling him her true name was grounds for death, directly going against her training. Somehow she felt she had owed it to him.

Kristoff sobered as he saw her fear, "I'm sorry, I'll be more careful." He looked around, then whispered, "Can I use it when no one can hear but us?" She gave him a grudging smile, "Yes, I think that's fine." He nodded and led her away from the street and into the park. She felt sick, he was making this too easy. He led them to a park bench beneath a large oak, and sat down next to her.

Lacing his fingers in hers he brought their hands to his lips. He smiled at her, "I like knowing your secrets." Natasha's heart squeezed, knowing what her secrets would cost him. He played with her fingers affectionately, bringing them to his lips reverently. With every kiss, he whispered her name like the secret it was, "Natalia, Natalia, Natalia." Something in Natasha seemed to crack and loosen alarmingly. Suddenly the weight of what she was about to do was too much. It wasn't right, he deserved to live. Her mind finally sharp with new purpose, she knew she had to get him back home. The Russian operatives wouldn't have the resources to extract him from there, they needed him out in the open.

Natasha did the only thing she could think to do, she kissed him, hard. Surprised, Kristoff froze for a moment, but quickly began to kiss her back. Natasha was relieved, she was in control again. This she understood. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him closer and whispered tantalizingly in his ear, "Can we go home?" She kissed his ear and down his neck, and felt his pulse quicken in response. At last something familiar to her. He could still be manipulated.

Kristoff slowed the kiss and deepened it, making Natahsa's mind seem to fuzz around the edges. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently, so very gently, pushed her back and off of him. She stared at him uncomprehending, shocked.

"Sasha… Natalia. This wasn't my intention. I hope you know that."

Natasha's blood went cold, she could not fail this mission. She took his hand and smiled at him, her eyes adoring, "Kristoff, I want to be with you. I've never felt more safe. I trust you."

"That's the thing, I want you to be able to trust me. I want to protect you from everything that could hurt you. Including me. Sasha if we go home…"

She edged closer, desperate now, "I know what I want Kristoff."

"See, I don't think you do. You're new here, probably homesick. You've had a hard time of it, you're injured still. You can't just give yourself to the first nice guy that comes along. Sasha, you need to be careful. I'm not in a rush."

Natasha took a deep breath and looked at him thoughtfully, determined to save him. She played with his fingers for a moment in silence. "Kristoff, I've never met anyone like you. My motivation isn't loneliness, or simply seeking comfort." She hesitated, "Kristoff, I think I love you…" With bewilderment, she felt the heat of a blush blossom in her face. Kristoff noted it and visibly softened. Natasha pressed her hands to her face, confirming the heat there. This was quickly spiraling out of control. She pressed a kiss onto Kristoffs lips, softly and first and then more urgently, determined to win him over this time. She guided his hand to the small of her back, easing his fingers under her shirt. For one short moment Natasha felt triumphant as he roughly pulled her in close against him before he broke away fuming. Hands on his head he marched himself away from her then stopped to observe her from a distance.

"You are nearly irresistible," he said, panting.

Natasha scowled, "Nearly? How charming."

Kristoff smiled and shook his head, massaging his temples. "You say you think you love me. Well let me tell you something, I know I love you." His tone grew fierce, "I am going to show you what real love means, and it's not this Natalia. It's not just this. I don't know what experiences you have had before but you might as well forget about them. You have never met a man like me."

Natasha simply stared at him completely derailed, "What?"

He came cautiously closer, one step at a time, "I am going to spend the rest of my life getting to know every detail about you, mental, spiritual and yes physical. I want to know it all. I want to protect you, even if that means from yourself."

"You're crazy!"

"Maybe. But I won't just take you to bed with me. What would that tell you? That I'm like every other guy out there ready to use you. I won't be that guy."

Natasha stared up at him, speechless. After years of the same routine, she had never imagined a man like this. Her eyes filled up with tears, partly because he had moved her, her heart altered in ways she didn't fully understand yet, but mostly she cried because sneaking up behind him were the Russian operatives, and there was no saving him now.


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha snapped back to reality with a gasp, unwilling to put herself through the rest of the memory. She brushed tears off her face that she hadn't realized were falling. Closing her eyes she pictured Kristoffs face, so kind and warm. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry." Taking a deep breath she stood and paced her room. Kristoff had been a fool to get involved with her. When they took him, he hadn't stood a chance, he didn't even fight. She had screamed for him to fight, begged him to resist but he hadn't. It just wasn't in him. She kicked her bed angrily.

Natasha's emotions spun inside her like a roller coaster. She felt grief, love, anger and disgust, both at herself and at Kristoff until suddenly one feeling overtook the rest. She longed with a deep ferocity to be with Steve. Where was he? She listened hard for him, but all she got was silence. Her stomach seemed to turn inside out with dread. She needed to find him, and now. She concentrated on him with all her might, but utter silence was all she found. Bursting out of her room she ran down the hallway to the main room. Tony and Vision were sitting on a couch, both looked up alarmed as she flew into the room.

"Where is Steve?"

"I haven't seen him, why what's wrong?" Vision asked, standing up.

"I don't know, I just… I just need to find him." She left the room quickly, running down the hallway and poking her head in every door. "Steve?!"

Finally she made it to the training room, and burst through the doors. There sitting next to Wanda, was the man she had been looking for. Both of them looked up at her startled, taking in her now red face and clenched fists.

Steve leapt to his feet immediately, listening to the thoughts and emotions raging in her head. He turned to Wanda and said softly, "It would seem that it works." He motioned her out of the room, and Wanda quickly left, sparing Natasha a look of compassion as she went. Natasha's eyes hadn't left Steve once.

"Where. Were. You." Natasha asked through gritted teeth, her hands still balled into fists.

"I've been right here Nat," he said cautiously. She blanched at his words, her face filling with color. "God Steve, I never thought you would LIE. I couldn't hear you! I can ALWAYS hear you."

Steve nodded, "I know, I'm sorry, I know that must have been-"

"You don't know! You have no idea what I was thinking, what I've been through to make me this way." Steve didn't even blink at her outburst, only looked at her with confusion, which only added fuel to her anger. He tilted his head, listening to try to understand her, but the true source of her anger wasn't him, so he couldn't hear her clearly. He shook his head, frustrated, "All I know is that you're angry Nat, you want to tell me what this is about? Or better yet let me explain where I was?"

Natasha suddenly felt mortified. She must look certifiably insane. She shut down, her voice going flat. "No, let's practice." Natasha stepped over to the sparring mat.

"I don't think that's a good idea Natasha… Why don't we talk?"

"I don't want to Steve. Get on the mat."

"Natasha... " Steve approached her and reached out to touch her shoulder but Natasha grabbed his hand quick as lightning and threw him to his back. "Just shut up and fight Steve!"

He sat up, irritated, his voice beginning to raise, "Nat just tell me what this is all about!" She charged him, but he saw her coming. Sweeping her feet out from under her, she landed with a thud on her back next to him for a split second before she was up again, fists raised. He looked at her, completely bewildered until a new emotion overtook him, Natasha's emotion. She was desperate, desperately hoping that he would put up a fight, that she could provoke a show of strength from him. Somehow, for some reason, she needed him to fight. He wasn't even sure she knew that's what she was feeling, it was so subtle. He stood, never taking his eyes off of her. She was a complicated person, but he loved her. If a fight was what she needed, he would give her the fight of her life.

He lunged towards her, catching her by surprise and tackling her around her middle. Throwing her weight backward she kept him from knocking her over, raining hammer punches down on his head and shoulders. He gritted his teeth, she wasn't hitting him as hard as he knew she could, but she certainly wasn't being gentle. He let go of her and she swung at him, but he blocked it. He blocked and dodged several more, unwilling to throw any at her. She ran and leapt at him, tangling her legs around his head and shoulders, using her weight to pull him to the ground. He hit the mat hard on his side, and she was quickly on top of him. It was all he could to to guard his face. He threw her off him, rolling so he was on top and pinning her arms to her sides.

"Natasha enough!"

She wriggled out from under him, landing a kick at the center of his chest before leaping to her feet. He stood quickly as she came at him, and with super speed caught her punches before they landed, his fingers wrapping tightly around her small wrists.

"Come on!" she yelled at him, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled against his grip. Steve was done. Before she could twist away or kick him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close to him. She beat at his chest, truly crying now. Her breathing came too rapidly, her strikes growing weaker and weaker as she gave in to Steve's embrace. Her head fell to his shoulder as she silently wept.

"Nat, just breathe ok? Take deep breaths, everyone is ok, I'm ok, you're safe, everything is good."

Cautiously, Steve released her waist and gently tried to turn her face towards him "Nat? Nat please just tell me what happened."

Natasha wrapped her arms around Steve, resolutely keeping her head buried in his chest. He stroked her hair, holding her as she shook. Natasha could feel Steve growing cold with fear, her severe reaction making him think something terrible had happened. A chill shook her, she had to tell him.

 _Tell me what?_ Came Steve's thought in her mind, gentle, but urgent.

 _I hope that after you see this, you can still love me…_ She thought at him. With a flash of fear and then determination, she opened her preciously guarded vault of memories and let the story of Kristoff flow into his mind. She spared no details, exhausted at the thought of trying to keep any more secrets, of trying to bear it alone. She kept her face resolutely tucked into his shoulder, terrified to look at his expression.

As Steve listened, his arms wrapped more and more tightly around her, her strange behavior suddenly falling into place. By the time Natasha got to the day of Kristoffs capture, Natasha's arms had wrapped, vice-like around Steve, as though by holding Steve she could save Kristoff, could keep Steve from ever coming to harm on her account.

"He didn't even fight," she cried, voice muffled, "He just stood there staring at me like an idiot until they took him." She pulled up Kristoffs face so both of them could see, and Steve flinched at the look of horror and betrayal on the other man's face. Natasha shuddered, and involuntarily morphed Kristoffs face to Steve's. Their eyes were so similar.

"No," Steve said firmly, "That won't happen to us." He paused, "Nat, what happened to you after that day?"

She turned her face to the side, "They disowned me for the betrayal of my country. He broke under questioning, told them I told him my name."

"Natalia."

She shuddered, "Please don't call me that. I can't be called that ever again."

Steve paused, "What does the KGB do to agents they disown?"

Natasha was silent.

"Nat, show me. Get it off your chest."

Slowly, Natasha showed him the memory. Steve suddenly felt like his skin was on fire, his eye swollen shut. Blood dripped off his fingers and he shuddered with fever, hot and cold on the floor of his cell. Natasha shut the memory down, unwilling to show him more.

Steve pulled away from her, his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. He struggled for words, but couldn't find any. Natasha gave him a sad smile, "There's nothing to say. I know." Steve sat down on the mat, Natasha following his lead. She leaned up against him and he put his arms around her.

"How… how did you survive?"

She smiled at the floor, "Clint. Shield somehow found out about my work with Kristoff and sent Clint to stop me. Too late unfortunately. He had orders to kill me, but when he found me in that state he wanted to know the whole story. He brought me back to Shield, convinced the Director to clean me up and question me, and for once in my life, I told them the truth. I've been indebted to Shield ever since that day." They sat in silence for a minute before Natasha continued, "I owe Kristoff my life. Because he was captured and I was punished, my life was saved and I got the chance to start over. It doesn't seem right. I owe Clint my life, I owe you my life, and I will never, never be able to repay all of you. I changed my name to Natasha when I joined Shield, not so different from my old name that I would forget who I really am, but different enough so that I would be able to start over. But I feel like no matter how hard I try, the past will always haunt me. Being with you has been like a beautiful, terrible deja vu, because I keep waiting for the end of the story. I know what happens to people who get close to me. Yet, I selfishly just want to be with you Steve, even though it will inevitably put you in danger. It would seem I haven't changed very much"

Steve was quiet, his mind running through everything she had told him. She looked at him anxiously. He turned to her, "This is what you've been trying to keep from me?" Natasha nodded slowly. "You've been hiding this for months? How? Did you figure out how to block me out?"

Natasha shrugged, embarrassed, "I just compartmentalized it. Used all my willpower to not think about it while you were nearby. It was harder when you did and said things that reminded me of him, but I just would focus really hard on something else."

"Until you got so worn down that you broke under the weight of it. Natasha, this is what I was afraid of with our connection! It isn't healthy for you!"

"Well what about you! I never hear you comparing me to Peggy! Where do you put those memories?" Steve's face went blank, and Natasha immediately regretted her words.

"I'm sorry. I've just wondered."

Steve shook his head, "No you're right. I guess I'm doing the same thing. But with Peggy I keep mostly good memories, up until the end. So it doesn't hurt as much."

"It doesn't make you want to pick a fight with me?" Natasha's voice was dry with self deprecating sarcasm.

Steve smiled, "I understand why you did."

"Really? Because I'm still trying to work that one out…" Steve looked at her, surprised.

"Kristoff…" Steve paused when she cringed at his name, "He was a good man, but he didn't have the strength to survive you." Natasha flinched at his words, and Steve hastily went on to explain, "I don't mean that the way it sounds. Natasha, he was a civilian. You have never been a civilian, and any man that is going to survive and thrive alongside you will need to be able to keep up with you. You fought with me because you needed to see that I can. And I can Nat."

"When I couldn't hear you I thought…" Tears fell unbidden down her cheek, and she wiped them away in exasperation, "Steve I betrayed him. I knew he was good and I manipulated his feelings and got him killed. Don't you ever doubt me?"

"Natasha, I can literally hear your thoughts. I am in a unique position to be able to trust you one hundred percent." Steve got up from the mat and went over to his bag, "I got you something today."

"What?"

"I got you something while I was out this morning," he said as he came and sat back down facing her, his knees touching hers.

"I just told you I betrayed a man and sent him to his death, and instead of considering whether I am the woman for you, you buy me a present? Steve, I know I cracked and picked a fight with you and all, but I seriously think you're the crazy one."

Steve laughed, "To be fair I bought it before you lost it, and it's relevant to the conversation, I promise." He handed her a long rectangular box the size of his palm. Natasha looked at it, touched and uncertain. "Open it."

Natasha opened the box and her eyes widened at the contents. Inside was a bracelet, with a delicate silver chain and a star shaped charm in the center. She looked at it, and then at Steve, letting her emotions flood over to him. He smiled, "It's more than it seems to be." He took the box from her and removed the bracelet, fastening it around her wrist. "The metal is vibranium, I had Stark grind a little off the edges of my shield and melt it down." Natasha began to protest but Steve cut her off, "It wasn't much, the shield is fine. The point is, it won't break. Not even on a mission. After I had it made I had Wanda try a few things. She's been concerned about the weight of our connection as much as I am. I've had her pressing you to try to build that wall but she said you wouldn't do it. But I think we've found a compromise."

Natasha looked at the beautiful bracelet and back to Steve, "What do you mean?"

"This bracelet is your shield now. Wanda has infused power into it. When you touch the star with the intention of using it, it will shield you from me."

Natasha looked at him in horror, "Steve, that isn't what I want! I want to be open! No more secrets!"

Steve shook his head and took her hands, "Nat this open connection will only make us suffer. What if we go on a mission and learn compromising information that we can't share? Information that could hurt the other person? And Nat, I feel as though I am stealing pieces of your mind, pieces that were safe for you before I came in. You should have been able to tell me about Kristoff when you were ready, not when the weight of keeping it to yourself became too much to bear! With this, you can use it when you need to, and I will feel better about this whole thing."

Natasha looked at him, trying to understand. "You want me to keep things from you?"

"No, but I would rather you keep things from me if it means that when you do share, it's because you really want to."

Natasha fingered the star experimentally, then pressed it. She felt the safe haven around her immediately. She looked at him, "What am I thinking?" Steve shook his head with a smile. Natasha frowned, "Steve, I can't use this if you don't have one too." He smiled and nodded, pulling a long chain with an identical star at the end from around his neck, "I thought you might say that."

"That's why I couldn't find you!"

"Yes, I'm sorry it startled you. When your shield is up I can't hear your thoughts or feel your emotions, but I can hear if you choose to speak to me in your mind. It works the same for me"

Natasha fingered the chain, "Why did you choose a star?" Steve smiled sheepishly, "I'm glad you can't read my thoughts right now."

"What? Tell me! Why a star?"

Steve sighed, "It sounded better in my head, saying it out loud it sounds… I don't know."

"Because America?" Natasha teased, "To match your uniform?"

"No! Ok fine. I chose the star because… All those nights we spent on the roof, just talking and confiding in each other, they are some of the most peaceful memories I have. The stars were out and I just thought… I want that peace for you, that light. I want to bring that to your life, and sometimes that will mean compromise. The star reminds me of that."

Natasha's face grew serious and thoughtful. Steve waited, unable to hear her thoughts as she formed them. Finally she spoke, "And do I… I know my past has been an obstacle. I know I can be… complicated. Do I bring light to your life Steve? Honestly?"

Steve looked at her in astonishment. "Natasha have I not…" He massaged his forehead in distress, "Wait a minute ok? Just give me a minute to collect my thoughts."

Natasha looked at him, bewildered. Steve sat with his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them, startlingly blue. He looked at her as if memorizing her, taking in every detail of her face. Natasha squirmed, uncomfortable. Steve sighed, "Ok." He reached up and pressed his finger to the star on his chain. Suddenly Natasha was flooded with an image. She saw in her mind's eye, a perfect memory of herself, only it was odd. Like a piece of art that is made up of many smaller images, this image seemed to shimmer and move with memories. _Look closer…_

Natasha looked, leaning forward to see her own eyes. Like a movie played on double speed, Natasha watched Steve's memories of her eyes. She saw the twinkle of mischief when she teased him, the hard concentration they took on when she sparred with him, the wide vulnerability when she confided in him. Looking down Natasha saw her mouth, and the memory of her kiss, her laugh, the tone of her voice. In her arms she saw her own strength, the hands that would kill for him, would soothe him. She saw the sharpness of her mind, her tactical skills, her wit, her depth. She looked at it all, and Steve had everything stored in his memory, all the way from the smell of her hair to the yearning in her soul for true goodness. _You don't bring light to my life Natasha, you ARE the light in my life. Nat.. I-_

 _Wait._

Steve looked at her, she was dry eyed, but flushed. She thought to him again, _You want me to wear this so that when I share with you, it's because I want to. Right?_

Steve nodded. Natasha took a deep breath, then touched the star on her wrist, turning off her shield. _I love you, I love you, I love you…_ Natasha's heart echoed the words and they reverberated through Steve's mind. His mouth dropped and he stared at her as he listened. Quickly he stood up and paced a few steps, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat when he had his back turned. He turned to face her.

"Are you serious?"

Natasha shrugged, embarrassed. Steve's eyebrows furrowed, "Nat. I need to hear you say it." He knelt in front of her and brushed her hair out of her face so he could put his hand on her cheek. "I need to hear it, or I can tell myself I dreamed it. Please Natasha."

Natasha's face was steadily growing redder, but she looked him directly in the eyes. "Steve Rogers, I love you. I would be a fool not to."

For a moment, all that could be heard in the room was silence. Steve pulled her in abruptly and crushed her in a heavy hug. They stayed there, wrapped in each others embrace, minds open and in perfect understanding and complete acceptance. _I love you Natasha Romanoff. We are strong together, and together we will face whatever comes._


	6. Chapter 6

_Natasha shuddered, her bare skin, blazing with fever pressed against the agonizingly cold stone of her cell floor. Opening her eyes blearily, she looked around. Russia. How had she gotten back to Russia? Searing pain across her back pulled her mind from her confusion. She looked down at her body. She was in prisoner's rags, the small cotton gown hanging torn from her shoulders. Red welts covered her arms, dried blood crusted in her fingernails. The back of her gown felt wet where it touched her back, and the slightest motion caused her vision to darken in pain. Natasha gritted her teeth, determined to figure out what had happened. Reaching out, she grasped the bars of her cell and painstakingly started pulling herself up. Her breathing rattling, she made it to a standing position._

" _Still made of marble I see. I always told them you would be hard to break. Physically at least."_

 _Natasha's heart stopped. She had hoped never to hear that voice again. She pressed her face between the bars, straining to catch a glimpse of the woman who had raised her, had made her into the monster she had become, but all she could see were shadows._

" _Where are you?" Natasha's voice faltered only slightly, her eyes scanning the room outside her cell. She lifted her chin, feigning confidence, "You have no power over me anymore. I'm not your puppet to control."_

 _A chilling laugh bounced off the dark corners of the cell, "Oh my sweet Natalia. Don't be such a child. You handed me the very tool I needed to get you back. It makes me wonder if you didn't do it on purpose. Tired of the straight and narrow are we?"_

 _Natasha's hands slipped on the bar, taking her off balance for a moment. The pain of the motion blinded her, but still she persisted in standing, too proud to show more weakness than she already was. "What are you talking about?"_

" _Come and see."_

 _Suddenly the pain subsided entirely, leaving her feeling lightheaded with relief. She found herself standing outside the cell she had just been in, and two hands grasped her shoulders from behind. She tried to turn and see who was there, but she could not get her head to turn. "See who has taken your place…"_

 _Natasha peered into the cell. There, his hands chained above his head as though he himself were the Russian traitor instead of her, was Steve. His broad back was bare and covered in lashes. Natasha reeled backward in shock . "No!" She ran to the bars and rattled them furiously, trying to get to Steve. "Open this cell!" She screamed to the dark shadows where her handler remained hidden. "Do you hear me?! Open this cell! Steve? Can you hear me Steve?" Steve remained motionless, blood slowly trickling down his sides._

 _Natasha shook the bars again, then turned, determined to find the key. A punch to the face out of nowhere sent her sprawling on her back. Natasha sat up slowly, her hand nursing a bloody nose. The chilling voice whispered in her ear, raising goosebumps along Natasha's arms, "See the gift you have given the KGB. All is forgiven. Welcome home."_

Natasha sat bolt upright in bed, covered in sweat. Throwing off her blankets, she ran to her bathroom and retched. Gasping for breath, Natasha rested her head against the toilet bowl. She held her hand out before her, and watched as it shook. Quickly she checked her bracelet. Reassured that her shield was up and that she hadn't woken Steve, she shakily got to her feet. Grabbing the handgun that she kept in her bathroom drawer, she stepped back into her room. Flipping on the lights she checked every corner until she was satisfied that she was safe. Old habits died hard. She holstered the gun and sat on her bed. It had been about a month since she had told Steve that she loved him. For a while, her nightmares had stopped, only to return with a vengeance. It was as though because she had come to terms with her past while she was awake, it was determined to haunt her while she slept. She looked at the clock, 3 AM. There was no way she was about to go back to sleep now. Cautiously, quietly, Natasha reached out in her mind to check on Steve. He was asleep, deep and dreamless. She envied him. He rarely used his own mind shield, leaving his thoughts open for probing as he slept. She retreated without waking him. He didn't need to lose sleep just because she was.

Natasha walked wearily back to the bathroom and got in the shower. She let her mind wander back to when she had been captured after the loss of Kristoff. It had been the worst week of her life. She had been trained to withstand pain, and her handlers knew exactly what she could handle, and what she could not. She had come close to death several times, but they always brought her back, not content just to kill her for her crimes. Natalia Romanoff had been the pride of the KGB, and her loss was a bitter pill to take. They had wanted to be sure she suffered for it. She shivered, despite the hot water. Turning off the shower she opened the curtain and regarded her reflection in the foggy mirror. Her skin was flawless, and she still wasn't used to it. The scars along her back and the marks of all the missions she had been sent on had been wiped away with Steve's blood transfusion. Emotionally and physically, Steve was helping her heal. She wasn't about to let a few bad dreams get in the way of what was quickly becoming the best thing that had ever happened to her. Quickly drying off she threw on her workout clothes. She hastily pulled a brush through her hair and tied it back, then headed out the door to start running laps on Tony's indoor track.

When Steve woke that morning he headed down to the kitchen. Flipping on the lights he was startled by Natasha sitting on the kitchen counter, downing a tall glass of water.

"Nat? What are you doing up? And why are you sitting in here in the dark"

"I couldn't sleep, thought I would get an early start on the day. I didn't want to wake anyone" She slipped down from the counter and wrapped her arms around his waist. She smiled up at him and tilted her chin up for a kiss. Taking her chin, Steve looked down at her suspiciously. "You hate waking up early."

"If I don't up my training you're going to wipe the floor with me Rogers. And that would just be embarrassing. Sacrifices must be made. Now are you going to kiss me or not, because the offer is about to expire." Steve smiled and gently kissed her. Natasha deftly pressed the star on her bracelet, showing him how lightheaded his kiss made her. They pulled back and grinned at each other. Natasha went to the fridge and pulled it open, handing Steve the orange juice without having to be asked. She turned her bracelet on again. Steve looked at her as he poured himself a glass, "We can talk about your nightmares another time then."

Natasha looked up, "Now how did you know that?! I didn't even think about them when my shield was down!"

Steve shook his head. "I don't have to read your mind to know something is up, even without your little distraction techniques." He raised his eyebrow at her pointedly.

"What distraction techniques?" Natasha asked innocently, still rooting around in the refrigerator. Steve rolled his eyes and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Pressing his lips close to her ear he spoke, his voice low, "Natasha?"

"Hmm?" she responded, faltering for a moment.

"What were you just looking for," he asked, his breath tingling against her ear sending goose bumps racing up her arms. She thought for a moment, then turned to face him, "You're mean." He laughed and stole a kiss when she wasn't expecting it. He sat himself on a kitchen stool and drank his orange juice, waiting expectantly. She sighed. "The dreams are back worse than ever. But they're just dreams Steve. I can handle it."

Steve frowned, "Why don't you wake me? Nat I want to be there to help you through this!"

"I know you would be there in a second if I asked, but I don't want to keep waking you!" Steve was about to protest but Natasha cut him off, "If they become too much for me to handle I will start sleeping without the shield. Until then I want to try to push through on my own."

Steve regarded her thoughtfully, "Alright. You know I will be there when you call."

"I know."

Steve looked at her, "Are they still about me?"

Natasha took his hands in hers, "If ever I was going to break, it wouldn't be under torture or because someone threatened my life. The only thing left in the world that truly scares me is causing you harm. So yes, my nightmares are always about you."

Steve sighed and pulled her into a hug. Taking her face in his hands he smiled, "Let's get to the training room. I want to get some practice rounds in before the others arrive."

She smiled at him wickedly, "They have no idea what they are getting into today." Laughing together mischievously, they walked hand in hand out of the kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

The Avengers team met every morning for training in the spacious training arena with Steve and Natasha. Wanda, Vision, and Sam were regulars to their classes, with the fairly regular drop in from T'Challa and Clint as time allowed. Tony attended as it suited him. Today everyone was present, for everyone was needed.

Steve gathered everyone around and began his introduction, "Alright everyone, I know we've been focusing primarily on hand to hand combat these last few weeks. Thanks to T'Challa for stepping in for a couple classes, that was very helpful." T'Challa nodded. "Today our focus is a little different. Today we are focusing on how to use each of our strengths to work as a team."

Natasha grinned, "The drill today is simple. All of you against Steve and I." Clint snorted, "What?"

Nat smirked at him, "Too hard?" Vision raised his eyebrows, "I predict that this drill will not last even two full minutes. Your odds are very low." Nat shrugged, "Here are the rules; Steve and I are the villains, and you've been asked to bring us in. If you make a kill shot, that is, you hit the head, throat, heart or gut, you're out. The same goes for us. The first team to take out the other wins." Steve nodded, "Obviously this is a training drill so Clint, training arrows please, Wanda and Vision, watch your powers. The rest of us will hit only hard enough to make it obvious that you're out." Natasha shot a look at T'Challa, "And no claws. Those suck." He smirked.

Tony picked at his teeth, "Seems like a flawed drill Cap, when neither you or Nat really has any powers other than super healing. That's good for after your asses have been handed to you but not so much in a fight. Wanna borrow a suit?" Nat rolled her eyes. Tony shrugged, "Suit yourself. Pun intended." He pressed a button on his wristwatch and the Iron Man suit enveloped him.

Natasha pressed the star on her bracelet, opening her mind to Steve. "Everyone spread out." She set a countdown on the wall timer. "When the buzzer sounds we go." Ten seconds was put on the clock.

Natasha thought at Steve, _We need to take out the natural leaders first. Clint literally can't miss a shot and the others respect him. He needs to be your first target._ Natasha felt his affirmation.

 _Then you take Tony, he'll get them organized and we can't have that._

Steve and Natasha moved to separate sides of the room, noting with pleasure the uneasy faces of their teammates. Wanda looked from Steve to Natasha with alarm, "Wait, we need a plan! They can hear-"

The buzzer sounded, and all hell broke loose. Steve launched himself at Clint, quickly getting too close to shoot and wrenching away his bow. The two broke into hand to hand combat, but without his arrows and at close range, Clint didn't last long. Steve landed a light slap to the side of his head. "Kill shot," Steve said grinning as he ducked under T'Challa's punch. Clint kicked the floor in irritation. Natasha had managed to wrap her legs around Tony's helmet and was struggling to land a kill shot through his armor. Tony lifted off the ground, trying to shake her loose. Wanda and Sam flew close behind, trying to help, but Tony's movement was too sporadic. Finally Natasha hit the side of Tony's helmet, sending it rolling back away from his face. She smacked the side of his head, "Kill Shot!" Tony gritted his teeth and suddenly lurched sideways, throwing Natasha off of him from eight feet off the ground. "You've been studying my suit Romanoff! That would never happen in a real fight!"

 _Falling!_

 _Coming!_

Steve disentangled himself from T'Challa long enough to scoop Natasha out of the air and send her swinging back towards him. She landed a strong kick to his side, her arm around Steve's neck for stability. Turning once more for momentum, Steve threw Nat at T'Challa, directly at his head. Natasha caught herself around his throat, swinging behind him and landing on her feet. "Kill shot." she grinned at him, and he glowered in response before going to sit with rest rest of the "dead." Turning she found Steve struggling to block Visions laser attacks, turning them aside with his shield. Coming up behind him, Sam was preparing a divebomb. Quickly Natasha sent Steve a picture of Sam's exact location, and ran full tilt at Visions back. Jumping she wrapped her arm around Visions throat, distracting him from Steve. Steve quickly and without looking threw his shield at Sam, knocking him out of the air. "Oh come on! You didn't even look!" He picked himself up off the ground and grumbled his way to the sidelines.

Natasha strained at Visions neck but it didn't seem to be making a difference. Vision spoke calmly, "Technically that can't kill me." Vision suddenly disappeared, and Natasha fell to the ground, her arms wrapped around nothing. _Stay down Nat!_

Natasha froze, and Steve appeared over her, blocking an attack by Wanda aimed at Natasha's back. Vision reappeared at Wanda's side, and the two teams regarded each other for a moment. Those on the sidelines were yelling and cheering for Wanda and Vision.

Natasha watched them warily, _How do you wanna do this?_

Steve hesitated, _I'm not sure…_

Wanda smiled, _You mind if I add a few more to the conversation?_ Steve and Natasha looked up at the sound of her voice in their heads. Visions forehead began to glow, and soon he was chuckling. _Genius Wanda, now the playing field is even._ Wanda looked at Steve and Natasha, _Technically I could just stick you both to the ceiling and be done…_ Steve and Nat began to glow subtly red and lifted off the ground.

Natasha immediately thought to put up her shield to block Wanda, but Wanda just shook her head. "I made that shield. It won't work if I really try to get in your head." Tony called up to the four as they floated above the ground, "Guys it would be great if you spoke out loud so the rest of us can hear. Just a thought. This whole CapNat mind control thing still kinda freaks me out." Sam chuckled and called out, "Wanda can't you just make them surrender? You know, Scarlett Witch mind control and all that." Wanda's brow furrowed, "I don't really think that's ethical. Besides I don't need to control their minds when I can just as easily control their bodies."

Steve looked at Natasha, their little game had backfired. _Nat we can't lose..._

Natasha looked at Steve, shooting a flash of an idea at him. Her thoughts came so quickly that he only caught every other word, _Vision. Empath. Weak link._ Before Steve had really understood what she was saying, Natasha screwed up her face and unleashed some of her most painful memories, pulling them up out of the depths of her mind and aiming them at Vision. Visions eyes widened in horror and sorrow at what he saw, his perceptive and sensitive mind flooded with the pain of Natasha's past. The effect it had was staggering. Vision dropped to the ground to steady himself, leaving Wanda on her own in the air. She looked at Natasha, who was concentrating fiercely. Shocked by what Natasha was showing them, Wanda listened for a moment. There was no story, no real detail that Natasha was giving them, only raw, personal pain that she was making both of them feel. For Vision, the barrage of images and emotions was too much. The desire to fight was draining out of him, replaced by sorrow and compassion, and all three of them felt it. Wanda's emotions changed from confident to alarmed as she faced finishing the fight on her own. Sensing her distress, Vision became desperate to overcome Natasha's attack, a protective instinct goading him forward. He quickly aimed a laser at Natasha but Steve wrenched his shield up in time to block it, Wanda's hesitation allowing him to move slightly. Tilting the shield just enough, he bounced the laser beam, not back at Vision, but at Wanda. It struck her square in the chest. The three of them fell hard to the mat.

Panting, Steve sat up. Vision had his hands pressed to his forehead, kneeling on the floor, still recovering from Natasha's onslaught. Wanda and Natasha coughed as they regained the breath that had been knocked out of them, and the rest of the team blinked silently at him. "Kill shot," Steve said softly. Finally Sam spoke up, "What exactly just happened?"

Wanda stood quickly and ran to Vision, "Are you ok? Natasha what did you do to him?"

Natasha stood calmly, rolling out her shoulders, "Hey, you let me in your head and in Visions. I used what you gave me." Softening she put her hand on Visions shoulder, "You have a real capacity to feel. It's a gift, but it can be exploited."

Vision looked up at Natasha from where he knelt, his eyes still haunted, "How… How do you bear it?" Natasha looked at him, her face impassive, and sighed. "Wanda, will you connect us again please?" Wanda shook her head, "I don't want you in my head." Natasha smiled sadly, "It won't hurt this time, I promise. Please, for Visions sake."

Warily, Wanda reached into Natasha's mind and listened to her thoughts. Relaxing, she sighed, then turned to Vision and connected them. Vision locked eyes with Natasha, listening to what she was showing him. She pulled up memories of friendship, of loyalty and laughter. Natasha remembered all the times she had been truly happy, and those memories revolved around the Avengers team. She trusted them, she was proud of them, and for the first time in her life, she felt like she had found a home. _I hold a lot of pain it's true. But I don't hold it alone. Let that comfort you._ Visions eyes glistened with compassionate tears and he smiled at her, his pain relieved. Natasha looked up, and the whole team was looking at her strangely. Nat looked at Wanda who smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry, but it was something the whole team benefited from hearing."

Natasha pursed her lips, embarrassed. She put her hands on her hips and addressed them, "Well you all officially suck at this. An old man and the tiniest woman on the team just handed your asses to you." She stood next to Steve, "We should not have been able to beat you. The only reason we did was because we have been practicing playing off each others strengths and covering each other's weaknesses."

"That and you can read each other's minds," muttered Clint, "That helps."

"Having our minds connected has been difficult, but we are finding ways to make it useful," Steve intejected. I want you all to think about how your gifts could be useful to another team mate, and spend some time brainstorming ways to collaborate. You did decently today."

Natasha snorted, "Now take 5 laps around the building. And do better next time." A collective groan went up, and the team trickled out the door until only Tony was left.

"I'm not feeling the laps today coach. Think I'll pass."

Natasha smirked, "And that's why you're easy to beat Tony. What was that like a minute it took me to bring you down?"

Tony's eyes narrowed, "I'm off to the lab. I have some upgrades needed for my suit that suddenly became apparent." He walked out the door nonchalantly, pausing in the doorway. "Question. So you hear like, every thought Rogers has?" Natasha nodded. "Any dirty thoughts or is Cap as squeaky clean as he appears to be?"

"Goodbye Tony."

Tony squinted at her then turned to go, "I knew it."

Steve came up beside and she turned to face him with a smile.

 _We did it. I thought we were going to lose._

 _I knew we would figure something out._ Steve pulled her into a kiss and she felt herself melt into him. She listened to his emotions as they spilled into her through their open connection. She suddenly felt a tightness in her chest, a fierce sense of possession and pride, and a wildness in Steve that she hadn't felt before. He felt… free. Happy. Joy welled up inside her suddenly, so much that Steve pulled away to look at her in wonder. "What is happening?" Natasha just laughed and kissed him again hard, "I'm really happy." Steve lifted her up off the ground and gave her a squeeze. "I am too." He tossed her over his shoulder unceremoniously, "Come on, it's time for food. I'm gonna make you some."

"You're going to need to put me down sir, or carry me in a more dignified manner."

Steve grinned, "Nah, I think this is good."

"You know I could kill you in seven different ways from this position, just off the top of my head. I'm sure I can think of more."

"I am aware. That's why this amuses me so much."

Natasha flipped herself forward and rolled onto the ground, then sprung up and jumped onto Steve's back piggyback style. She pointed straight ahead, "To the food!" Steve snapped into a salute, and ran out the door towards the kitchen, Natasha's laugh bubbling up behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Later that day in the Avengers common room, Natasha and Clint sat huddled around a television screen. "I don't understand this, what am I supposed to be doing?" Natasha's eyebrows were furrowed in frustration as Clint's video game character beat hers into a pulp.

"Just hit the "A" button for the jump move and hit the others to see what abilities you have! Come on Nat it's wrestling. I would have thought that would be something you get!" Natasha looked hard at the screen, trying to maneuver her character into a better position. Clint's fingers flew across the controller and his character leaped at hers, grabbing on and swinging around until he body slammed her. "Game Over," flashed across the screen. Natasha sniffed, "I can do that." Clint gestured to the screen pointedly, "Clearly not."

"No, I mean I can do that in real life moron. Not your stupid video game. Wanna see?" Natasha stood suddenly and Clint flinched then laughed. "You've always been a poor loser. Sucks to suck doesn't it Nat?"

"What like you did in our drill this morning? I'm pretty sure you were the first one out…"

Clint raised a finger, "Technically Cap brought me down, not you."

"At my suggestion!"

"It's nice to be thought of so highly."

Natasha leaped at him and they went tumbling off the couch and across the floor. Tony walked into the room and stared at them briefly as they tousled before lazily pouring himself a drink, "Ladies, ladies, you're both pretty, now knock it off before you destroy the place." He snatched a vase off a side table just as they bowled into it. Steve walked into the room and looked dryly between the wrestling pair and Tony, "What did I miss?"

"Apparently this is what playing video games with Romanoff looks like." Steve watched them amused, then nodded, "That doesn't really surprise me."

"Maybe you should try going a round with her sometime Cap," Tony raised his eyebrows suggestively. Steve went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water without looking at him, "Mind your own business Tony." Tony shrugged, "Just a thought."

An alert popped up on the screen with a loud ding, and Fridays voice made Nat and Clint break apart to see what was happening, "Some breaking news for you sir. I thought you should see."

Tony looked up, "Let's have it then Friday." Natasha and Clint were only half listening, catching their breath lying on the floor, still occasionally hitting each other and laughing. Wanda and Sam came into the room, followed by Vision and T'Challa, "Is there an alert?" Tony nodded and gestured to the couch. Friday turned the screens on around the room and spoke, "I have been monitoring the activity of the Black Widow program in Russia as requested, and there is some activity that might be of concern."

Natasha sat bolt upright, all previous mirth wiped off her face. "Friday what did you find?"

Tony looked at her incredulously, "Friday who gave you the instructions to follow the Black Widow Program?"

"Natasha Romanoff sir."

"And you didn't consult me on this?"

"Ms. Romanoff used all appropriate methods sir. The protocol was not broken." Tony looked at Natasha accusingly, "You hacked my systems?"

Natasha ignored him, getting to her feet unsteadily, "Friday what did you find?!"

"A known leader of the Black Widow program was spotted within U.S borders today at 11:57 AM." Friday pulled up a fuzzy traffic cam shot of a woman with sharp features and light blonde hair. A strangled sound issued from Natasha, whose face had gone paperwhite. It was the face of the woman that had eluded her in her dreams. Steve ran to her side and took her elbow, "Who is she Nat?"

Natasha ignored him, swallowing hard, "Friday, where was this picture taken?" Friday pulled up a map and zeroed in on the location. Natasha whirled around to look at Clint, who met her terrified gaze with horror.

"Laura."

"The kids. How did they find you?"

Clint was up and scrambling desperately in the couch for his phone, his fingers slipping as he dialed the number that would reach his wife. Natasha looked at the clock, it had been thirty minutes since the traffic cam had snapped the photo. Her mind raced with calculations.

"Laura?! Oh my God are you safe?"

Natasha let out a huge breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. They weren't too late.

"Laura get the kids and get into the panic room. Nat and I are on our way to you, just lock yourself in and stay there until I arrive. I love you. Everything is going to be fine." As Clint hung up he looked at Natasha, who was visibly trembling. He put his hands on her shoulders to calm her, "Look, we knew this was a possibility, we have made the arrangements. Everyone is safe. I need you to keep your head." Natasha nodded, her expression resolved, "Of course."

"Meet me at the quinjet in 5. Suit up."

Steve looked between Clint and Natasha, "Wait what is going on? You have a panic room? Who is this woman?"

Clint looked at him, his stress making him irritable, "I stole the KGB's Red Room valedictorian and turned her against her country. Of course I have a panic room, I'm not an idiot. I'm just surprised it has taken them this long."

Steve looked at Natasha, who was lost in a dark memory, her eyes glazed over. He shook her lightly, "Natasha. Tell me what is happening. Who is that woman?" Natasha eyes snapped up to his face as if she had just noticed him. Her mouth had gone dry, she tried twice before successfully answering. Her words came out in a whisper, "Darya Sokolov. The woman who made me what I am." Steve hugged her but she was stiff in his arms. He took her face in his hands, "Natasha, it's just one woman. We can handle this." Natasha jerked free of him, her voice raising and coming across slightly hysterical, "She's not just one woman! She is THE woman. She raised me, brainwashed me, sterilized me and was directly in charge of my punishment after Kristoff. Wherever she goes death follows. And she always goes for your weakness." Her eyes grew wide as she looked at him, "Clint is first, she hates him for freeing me but she'll come for you. I've been all over the news, we have been all over the news. Steve you can't stay here."

Steve was shaking his head, "Nat, we can prepare for this, take a stand. And she's nowhere near here!"

"You don't understand! You think she's alone?! She commands legions of women like me! Women who are trained to avoid being detected. That photo was a message, not a mistake. She would never let herself be photographed! This is personal for her, now that she knows where I am she will never, never give up. No matter what it costs her!" She sat down hard on an arm of a chair, "I've never stayed in one place this long before… She was bound to figure it out." She looked up at Steve and saw uncertainty in his eyes. He was so steadfast, always so full of faith that any problem could be overcome if you took a stand. She shook her head. Hitting the star on her bracelet she let her shield down and showed Steve her nightmare. He saw everything through her eyes and felt the abject terror that consumed her at the thought of not being able to convinced Steve of how serious this was. He grimaced at the onslaught of emotion. Natasha's eyes went wide as she remembered the dream, "They aren't just nightmares, they're premonitions…"

"No. Nothing is going to happen to me."

"Not if you listen to me."

He looked at her carefully, considering that in this, she might know more than he did. "What do you have in mind?"

Natasha took his hands, "I have to go with Clint. We will collect Laura and the kids and meet you in Wakanda." She looked at T'Challa, who nodded, "Of course."

"You need to collect your things and head there now, and let Tony close down the tower and follow with the team. I will be there as soon as I can."

Steve shook his head, obstinate, "I want to go with you, I can help." Another flood of crushing fear rolled through Natasha and into him. He grunted and rubbed his chest.

"No. You cannot be anywhere near her. Please Steve. Do what I ask."

"Nat we have to go!" Clint urged her from the doorway.

"PLEASE Steve!"

"Fine! I don't like it but I will do it." He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and spoke fiercely down at her, his own fear of abandonment rolling through her, "But if you don't meet me there, I am coming after you. If you take off 'for the greater good' of the team or give yourself up to try to save us I will hunt you down for as long as it takes until I find you again. Get Clint's family, and come back to me. We will work out a plan from there." Natasha nodded emphatically, "I promise. I will come back." To the surprise of the team, Natasha pulled Steve down for one quick, passionate kiss. "Thank you," she whispered to him, her green eyes full of tears of relief. Without waiting for an answer she turned and ran from the room after Clint.

Steve stared after her long after she was out of sight, feeling like he was burning from the inside out. Had he made the right decision? Wanda's hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

"Steve, if the Russians have crossed our borders and are hunting down Natasha's friends, we can't waste any time. You need to go. We will follow when things are settled here."

Tony nodded, "As much as I hate to admit it Steve, this is serious. I have family history with the Black Widow Program. They count on you underestimating them. Let's not make that mistake. I say we go dark and come up with a plan of attack while they scramble to find us. I'll notify government officials, they won't have this information yet." He sniffed, "Amateurs. I'll put the tower on lock down and then follow. You being here puts us in danger so do the right thing Cap, leave. Now."

Steve looked at Tony in frustration, knowing he was using trigger phrases like "do the right thing," just to get him to go. Things weren't black and white, and he wasn't certain of anything. But he had made Natasha a promise, and he intended to keep it. He looked around at his team members and said stiffly, "Follow as soon as you can."


	9. Chapter 9

Natasha sat in the copilot seat of the quinjet staring ahead silently as Clint flew at high speed towards the safehouse. He looked over at her and took in her stony expression.

"Nat, it's going to be ok."

"How can you say that?! I am bringing danger to everyone I care about!"

"We have talked about this Nat. We knew this might happen and we planned for it. Laura and the kids could stay holed up in that panic room for months if they had to. You put the alert out on Friday, you're the reason we got the information in time."

"If anything happened to those kids.. Clint I would just-"

"I know. But they're safe."

Natasha was silent for a while, staring out the window, lost in her own thoughts. "I can't believe she's still alive."

Clint pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded, "I thought for sure they would kill her for letting you escape." Natasha massaged her forehead. "Clint, I don't know if I can face her."

He was silent for a moment before answering, "You have to."

"I'm afraid Clint."

"I know will figure this out."

Natasha stared at her hands, remembering…

* * *

 _Thirteen year old Natalia Romanoff sat ramrod straight, her hands folded on her desk in silence, waiting with her classmates for the teacher to arrive and begin their lesson. No one dared to speak, the rules of the Red Room were sternly enforced. The punishment wasn't worth the risk. The sharp clicks of a woman's footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the room, and Natalia repressed a shudder of dread. Darya Sokolov was every Red Room Trainee's worst nightmare. Ruthless, merciless, and unrelenting, she pressed each of them to their limits, and often beyond. She had taken special notice of Natalia, acting as her personal mentor, something that Natalia resented immensely. It meant she was pushed harder than the other girls, given more difficult drills and was punished more often for her failures. The backs of her legs were red with welts from where Sokolov had struck them with her riding crop earlier that morning; her kicks had not been high enough for Darya's liking._

 _As Sokolov stalked her way to the front of the room, Natalia's warning bells went off. Her teacher looked furious, her lips pressed into a thin line. Every other time she had seen that look, one of them had been beaten. Natalia stole a quick glance at the girl sitting next to her, Sasha. Her eyes were wide with fright, and she glanced at Natalia fearfully. Natalia shook her head slightly, warning the girl to watch her expressions. Sasha's face went blank, and they both looked down at their notebooks, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The sound of a teaching pointer being whipped across the chalkboard made Natalia jump. She glanced up._

" _As your graduation ceremony comes closer, it is imperative that you are prepared to be sent undercover on missions. Complete control of yourself, your emotions, and how other people see you is imperative. Is that understood?"_

 _As one the class answered, "Yes Madame Sokolov."_

 _Darya Sokolov gestured to the board where a word was written out in chalk, "Truth."_

" _Who can tell me what this means?" She gazed around, but no one dared to raise their hand. "No one knows? What is truth?" Her sharp green eyes flickered to Natalia, who kept her gaze resolutely down._

 _Natalia listened as the heel clicks got louder and louder, then slowed right in front of her desk. She shivered._

" _Natalia. You will answer this question." Natalia stood and looked at the word on the board and then back at her instructor._

" _It means nothing. There is no truth except the one you create." Darya's eyes narrowed as she looked at Natalia. Natalia lifted her chin, unwilling to let Sokolov get the best of her in front of her peers._

" _Tell me Ms. Romanoff, when is it acceptable to be afraid?"_

" _Never," came the often rehearsed reply._

" _And when is it acceptable to appear afraid?"_

" _When it benefits your mission."_

 _Sokolov bent down so she was looking Natalia directly in the face, "And are you afraid of me?"_

 _Natalia's temper flared at the unfairness of the question. If she said yes, she would be breaking the rules by admitting fear, but if she said no, Darya would be certain to rise to the challenge. She looked into Darya's eyes, as green as a snake, and realized she would need to be as cunning as her teacher if she was going to survive._

" _I recognize your superiority Madame, and do not take for granted your strengths," Natalia allowed a small smile to play over her lips, "But a Black Widow is not capable of fear."_

 _Madame Sokolov regarded her for a moment, a feral smile growing gradually across her face. Natalia met her gaze steadily, using all her willpower to do so._

" _A well crafted reply," said Sokolov. Suddenly she swung out at Natalia and backhanded her forcefully. Natalia fell across Sasha's desk. Sokolov grasped her face painfully, forcing her to look at her and she whispered, "But you are not a Black Widow yet."_

 _Natalia's temper surged inside her, and she bared her teeth, humiliated in front of her classmates, determined to regain some of her dignity even if it meant she would be beaten for it. She kicked out at her teacher, trying to remove her but her hands simply slipped from Natalia's face to her throat. She gasped, watching in slow motion as Sokolov's fist drew back for a strike. Sasha leapt to her feet and threw herself over her friend, "No!"_

 _Sokolov paused, considering Sasha incredulously. Darya looked at Natalia, still struggling weakly against the vice-like grip of her teacher, "You seem to have a talent for drawing others to you Natalia. How intriguing. And how long have you been friends?" Darya looked to Sasha for the answer, Shasha's eyes flickering nervously from Darya to Natalia, who was shaking her head no. Natalia could see the trap as it was being set._

" _We've grown up together Madame. We can't help but be friends." Madame Sokolov released Natalia, who coughed and picked herself up off the desk. Sasha breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Natalia, her eyes asking if she was alright. Natalia met her gaze with dread, "You're a fool Sasha," she whispered, her voice laced with pain. Sasha only had a moment to be confused. Swiftly two Black Widow Graduates stole behind her and dragged her screaming out of the room. Natalia stiffened at the sound, but the strength of her own self preservation kept her rooted to the floor. As the sound faded away Darya put her hands on Natalia's shoulders and turned her slowly so she was face to face with her. Sokolov addressed the class, "Let this be a lesson to you all. You are to be Black Widows, and each of you already is affected by the Widow's Curse. Do not become attached to any one place, thing, or person. You will not keep them for long." Darya looked down at Natalia's white face, "Natalia, tell the class to whom you belong."_

 _Natalia swallowed hard, pulling the words from memory "I belong to no one and nothing but my mother Russia."_

 _Kneeling down before her, Sokolov dropped her voice so only the two of them could hear, "A word of advice my fierce Natalia. There is no pain quite like the pain of the heart. You must protect yourself, close your heart and become an unassailable fortress. We teach you these lessons to protect you." Natalia looked into her eyes, taken in by her words._

" _What will happen to Sasha?" Natalia's voice was soft._

" _She will die."_

 _Natalia's head snapped up, her eyes wide. She choked on her words, "Because she thought we were friends?"_

" _No my dear, she will die because you allowed her to believe it."_

* * *

Natasha clenched and unclenched her fist as she remembered. Darya Sokolov had been right about one thing, the Widow's curse affected them all. As they got closer to graduation, her class had shrunk in size as those deemed unfit were removed from the program, never to be seen again. There was no use in getting close with any of them, and Natalia had kept to herself, for her own protection and for the protection of the young women around her. She had been determined not to be removed. It had been Sokolov more than anyone who had motivated her to become the fighter she was. Brainwashing, indoctrination, everything Sokolov had said was in an effort to create a weapon out of her. She still struggled to pull apart what was true and what was the Red Room. She had come so far since then. She shuddered, the Widow's Curse haunted her still. Natasha shifted in her chair, restless. She looked over at Clint, "Can't you fly this any faster?"

"They're my kids Nat, I'm going as fast as I can."

She crossed her arms over her chest, her face creased with worry. If Sokolov really was hunting her, it wouldn't matter whose children they were. Natasha's love alone was enough to condemn them.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve and T'Challa had boarded their jet and taken off within the hour of discovering Clint's family was in danger. It had taken all of Steve's willpower to do so, and as they continued to fly further from New York, he became more and more restless, certain he had made the wrong choice. He and Natasha worked better together than apart. He shook his head, but he had made a promise. Natasha needed to be able to trust him. He sank into a chair and listened to see if he could hear her. He felt her immediately, she had not put up her shield. He felt his anxiety soften, recognizing the gesture as Natasha's intent to keep her promise to return. He knew how much easier it would be for her to put up the shield and just not think about him, but she had left their connection open. Steve didn't speak to her, leaving her to her own thoughts, but he remained connected, comforting himself with the sound of her mind. As he travelled further and further from her, the connection became softer, harder to hear.

"We are arriving Captain," T'Challa said, pulling Steve from his thoughts.

Steve nodded, "Good. We can start making a plan."

The jet touched down on the landing dock gently and the door opened with a hiss. Steve unbuckled himself and walked towards it, his mind with Natasha. Suddenly he froze, all thoughts of her put on hold as he struggled to understand what he was seeing. The breath went out of him with a whoosh, and his steps faltered and stopped. There, standing before him was James Buchanan Barnes. Steve opened his mouth but no words came out, and Bucky laughed. The sound of it was from another time, back when he and Bucky had been carefree friends, young and naive. Bucky's eyes creased as he smiled broadly at him, "What? Nothing to say? Turns out Wakandans are fairly brilliant when it comes to technology."

Steve ran down the ramp and wrapped his friend in a fierce hug. He pulled away and put his hands on his shoulders, "It worked? The Hydra tech... is it.."

"Gone," Bucky said with a grin. I haven't felt this good about myself since I fished you out of that dumpster on 15th street. They woke me a few days ago, but didn't want to tell you until they were sure it was safe. Come to find out you were headed my way!"

Steve laughed, 'Buck, it's so good to see you. So much has happened since you've been out."

Bucky looked serious, "How is Natasha?"

Steve couldn't stop a smile from spreading over his face, "She's…great. I mean she woke from her coma. A lot has happened."

Bucky smiled a mischievous smile, "I'm happy for you Steve." Steve suddenly was serious, "Bucky I need your help."

Bucky nodded a greeting to T'Challa who was coming down the ramp. "Of course, whatever you need."

Steve looked at T'Challa, "Let's go somewhere so we can fill Bucky in. We need a plan."


	11. Chapter 11

Clint slowed the jet so that they could descend into the woods just outside the farmhouse. Natasha scanned the area meticulously with Stark's technology, looking for heat signatures that would reveal anyone hidden on the farm other than Clint's family. Clint looked at her, his bow at the ready and hand on the door.

"We good?"

"It appears so." Natasha drew her weapon, "I've got your six, lead the way."

Clint wrenched open the door and they both bolted for the house, the quinjet locking automatically behind them. Natasha scanned the yard as they ran, determined not to miss anything, but there wasn't a soul in sight. As they reached the front porch Clint slowed and signaled Natasha to cover him as he opened it. Moving into position she nodded, and Clint kicked the door down and quickly cleared the living space. He motioned her in. Together they moved through the house towards the bedrooms.

Clint led them down the hallway towards the back of the house and the hidden doorway that led to the panic room. As they rounded the final corner, Natasha gritted her teeth, certain that Darya would be waiting there for them. Clint stopped for a moment, letting out a breath he had been holding. There was no one in their way. He looked at Nat, "We made it here first." Natasha nodded tersely and kept her eyes on where they had come from, her expression grim. "Just get in there and lock it back up until we are ready to leave." She covered him as he punched in the code. She heard the door slide open with a hiss, and Clint's joyous words as he saw his family safe. Natasha never took her eyes off the hallway, backing into the panic room and hitting the button to close the door. It shut with a decided thud. She closed her eyes and willed her heart to slow to normal, her expression dark.

"Aunty Nat!" Clints daughter Lila came running over to her, paying no mind to Natasha's mood and threw herself into her arms. Quickly Natasha brightened, holstering her gun and wrapping the little girl in a tight hug. " _Solnyshka_! I missed you so much!" Natasha struggled for a moment to compose herself, keeping Lila pressed close. Pulling away Lila looked at her aunt, "We've been hiding from the bad guys in here allll day!"

Natasha glanced at Laura, who gave her a strained smile, "You have? But you weren't scared were you honey?"

Lila shook her head emphatically and grinned proudly, "Mommy said you and Daddy were going to keep us safe." Natasha looked at her seriously and nodded, "That's my brave girl." Natasha gave her a wet kiss on the cheek, making Lila laugh and wipe her face with her sleeve as she ran to her Dad. He scooped her up as Nat went to Laura, who was rocking eight month old Nathaniel, sleeping in her arms. Natasha's expression sobered as she looked at them, and bent slowly to plant a soft kiss on the baby's forehead. She looked at Laura, "Laura I- I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry."

Laura regarded her for a moment, before putting a hand on her shoulder, "We knew it was a risk. We were ready. Everyone is fine and in good spirits Nat. No one is blaming you." Nat frowned, "I am." She looked over at Cooper who was talking his father's ear off about his new lego toy. She caught Clints eye, "We need to move." Clint nodded.

He walked over to Laura and bent to kiss her, "Let's get out of here. Three kids, three adults, we will move in pairs." Natasha nodded and pulled her second pistol out of her belt and handed it to Laura, who quickly checked the magazine and chamber, sliding the lock back so it was loaded. Satisfied she clapped her hands to get the kids attention.

"Alright kids I want your emergency backpacks on, as well as your special jackets. We are going to run an emergency drill alright? Just like we practiced. You have to stay with your grown up and stay quiet until we get to the jet." Natasha looked at her incredulously, "Just like you practiced?"

Laura looked at Natasha, her expression even, "I told you. We are prepared. If it wasn't your enemies it would have been Clint's." Laura looked at Natasha's horrified face and spoke to Clint, "See I told you it would upset her." He grimaced, "I had hoped she would never need to know."

Lila ran to Natasha, cutting her off from responding, "I want to be with Aunty Nat!" Laura looked at her and nodded. Natasha bent to zip Lila's jacket up to her chin, the texture of the material making her frown. She stood and pulled Clint aside, "You have bullet proof jackets for your children?" Clint looked at her seriously, "Laura is right, if it wasn't your enemies it would be mine. We aren't taking any chances." Natasha felt ill. No child should have to face this possibility. She tried to focus, strapping Lila's emergency backpack on her securely. Laura strapped the baby to her chest as Clint briefed Cooper. "You must stay close to me at all times. We don't know who is out there ok?" Cooper nodded seriously, looking for all the world like a little man. Natasha shook her head, "Alright Lila, let's get you onto my back." Laura helped her strap the little girl securely to Natasha. Lila giggled and wrapped her arms around Natasha's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. Nat looked at Laura, "Is this kid always so positive?" Laura smiled and kissed Lila's cheek, "You nicknamed her "little sun" for good reason."

Clint gathered them together, "Ok, Natasha will take point followed by Laura and I. Keep the kids towards the center of the formation for protection. Nat are you ready?" Natasha swallowed and nodded. Lila went quiet as they settled into their formation and Nat's hand rested on the door. As Natasha hesitated over the handle Lila spoke, her sweet voice soft, "Aunty Nat? We're going to be safe right?" Natasha's fear quieted, replaced by firm resolve, the precious load on her back steadying her, "Of course _Solnyshka_. Always."

Her hand gripping her weapon tightly, Natasha opened the door and took off down the hallway, the others close behind. Lila tucked her face into Natasha's neck, closing her eyes as they made their way out of the house and to the front porch. Natasha hesitated as she opened the front door, the open expanse of the yard yawning out in front of them like a trap. Slowing her pace, Natasha swiveled her head back and forth, searching for even the smallest hint that there was danger ahead. Her eyes roamed over the lawn, the barn, the trees of the woods where they were headed, and everything in between. They made their way down the front steps, Laura frowned at the busted front door but remained silent. As they moved into the lawn Natasha noticed something off about the bark of the pine tree just steps ahead of them, between the house and the jet. It was scraped in places, freshly broken twigs littering the ground. Clint saw her looking and looked too, both their gazes trailing up. There, nestled among the branches watching them like a cat, was Darya Sokolov. No sooner had they seen her than Darya leveled her weapon at them, popping off two rounds in their direction. Natasha felt as though her blood had turned to ice. She stumbled backwards and in a panic emptied her magazine at random into the tree. Flashbacks of the Red Room overwhelmed her and she started to seize up as her worst nightmares unfolded in front of her. Her breathing hitched, and a bullet exploded inches from Natasha's feet.

"Natalia my dear, did you miss me?!" Darya's voice sounded deranged, and the sound of it made Natasha blanche in fear. On either side of them, two women appeared from the woods and closed in on them.

Strapped to her back, Lila screamed in terror. The sound was like a slap in the face, her blood running hot now, urging her into action. Quick as lightning she reloaded her weapon and hit the button on her chest that dropped Lila off her back. Scooping her up she turned and ran back towards the house, screaming at Clint and Laura to follow. Darya dropped from the tree and began firing at them, taking off after them at a run.

"Natalia! Come back and introduce me to your new friends!"

The six of them made it up the porch steps and Natasha handed Lila to her mother, who ran with Nathaniel towards the panic room. Clint and Cooper ran towards her, and Natasha covered them, shooting at Darya and her soldiers with lethal accuracy. One of the women fell, and another took a bullet in the shoulder. The bullets seemed to have no effect on Darya herself, and a pool of dread centered in Natasha's stomach. A bullet whizzed past Natasha's left shoulder, splintering the door frame. As Clint and Cooper passed her, she backed into the house, still firing and reloading before she turned and ran after them, toppling furniture behind her as she went. They thundered down the hallway, Darya hot at their heels, a spray of bullets splintering wood and shattering glass as they went. Clint and Cooper made it into the room and all of them screamed at Natasha to hurry.

"Close the door!" She screamed at Clint, who was shooting arrows that exploded at Darya's feet, slowing her down. One arrow struck the last of Darya's soldiers square in the chest, dropping her to the floor. He hit the button to close the door and Natasha dove to cross into the room before it shut her out. She twisted as she slid, looking into the face of the woman who had haunted her dreams for years, her green eyes as sharp as ever, her expression murderous. The door slammed shut just as Darya sent four rounds in Natasha's direction, leaving a faint imprint in the door. Natasha stared at the dents, following their intended trajectory from the door straight to her chest. She let out a shaky breath. From the other side of the door, Darya Sokolov laughed incessantly.


	12. Chapter 12

_Natasha?!_ Steve's voice in her head pulled her out of her daze as she sat on the floor of the panic room staring at the bullet marks that should have taken her. She would have been shot dead had she been a second slower, and right in front of the children. Darya's laugh still sounded in her ears, and Natasha was having a hard time focusing.

 _Natasha what's happened? Are you hurt?_ Natasha shook herself.

 _N-No. We're ok. She got here right after us. Chased us back to the panic room. Steve… We're stuck._

 _Ok. Stay where you are, I'm coming for you._

 _No! Steve you promised! You have to stay away from her!_

Steve could feel her fear as Darya's pounding reverberated in her ears.

 _Natasha, move away from the door. Listen to me. Look at the children, tell me what you see._

Natasha looked up, Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel were huddled close to their parents, Lila and the baby wailing, Cooper stone faced and silent. Her heart broke for them.

 _Nat, we have to come. For them._

Another slam against the door made her jump and gasp, _Ok Steve. But bring backup! I don't know how many women she has! Keep me updated and for God's sake, please be careful!_

 _I will Nat, I love you. We are going to get through this._

 _I love you too. Please hurry._

A hand on her shoulder made her jump, pain in her thigh making her wince. Clint stood above her, "Hey, it's alright. Come away from there Nat ok?"

Natasha touched her leg gingerly, "It's my leg." Clint bent to look at it, noting the blood staining her pants along her thigh. "A bullet grazed you is all. It looks minor." He slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her away from the door and against the opposite wall. He tossed her some bandages from the cupboard and knelt to pick up Cooper, who had finally begun to cry.

"Is everyone alright?" Natasha asked hoarsely, looking at them all critically and trying to see if anyone had been hurt. They had been very lucky. Lila clung to her mother desperately, and Laura struggled to manage both her and the baby. Natasha held out her arms for Nathaniel and Laura grateful passed him over. She pressed him close and rocked him softly until his wailing quieted to a whimper, and gradually he fell asleep. "You're safe little one, you're safe," she crooned to him, a tear dripping off the tip of her nose and onto his blanket. Clint opened a cabinet and pulled out headphones, gently placing them on the two older children to block out the sound of the continuous pounding at the door. Natasha looked up at him from the floor where she sat, "You really did think of everything." Clint shrugged, "Be prepared."

Noticing the bandages untouched on the floor he frowned, "I gave these to you to wrap your wound genius." Natasha shrugged, "Nathaniel needed me." Clint gave her a look, "I think you needed Nathaniel," he said pointedly. Natasha had calmed considerably, the baby's warm little body soothing her, his tiny hand grabbing at her shirt. Clint knelt next to her and gently prodded her leg to find the wound but couldn't. He gave her a puzzled look, "It's gone. The blood is here but there's no wound."

Natasha glanced down, "Oh, yeah that's a new thing. Super serum healing or something."

Clint whistled, "Man, I'm jealous."

Laura stood, having successfully calmed Lila and came over to them, "Ok, that didn't work out very well. What is the plan?"

Natasha looked at Clint, "Steve is on his way with back up."

"I'm still not used to your mind connection thing." Clint looked at her dark expression, "I know letting him come here is hard for you. I want you to know I appreciate it." He looked at his family and ran his fingers through his hair. Laura put her arm around his waist and looked up at him, "We're fine. The Avengers are on their way and you've faced much worse with them and won before." She tugged at his arm, "Let's get the beds set up. I think the best thing right now is to have the kids watch a movie and go to sleep. It's getting late." Laura put her hand on Natasha's shoulder, "You too. Help me get everyone settled."

Natasha looked up at her, "How can you still want me around your children?" Laura frowned at her, "Natasha Romanoff, I'm going to need you to stop underestimating me. I am a soldiers wife. I understand the risks we take, I understood them when I signed up for this life. You are not like them. You are a woman my children adore, and they need you right now. Now stop wallowing and help me." The pounding on the door suddenly stopped. They waited, the silence eerie, but they couldn't hear anything. "She's not getting in here," Clint said confidently, "Not even if she has explosives. It's designed to withstand armies."

Natasha stood, careful not to wake the baby. She nodded and gave Laura a small smile. Laura quickly kissed her cheek and went to set up the hideaway beds. Natasha shook her head, what had she done to deserve such loyal friends? Tenderly she put Nathaniel down in his play pen and covered him with his blanket before going to Lila. She was listening to music with her headphones

on, staring at a coloring page and holding a crayon, but not coloring. Natasha sat herself on the floor next to her. Gently she took the crayon from Lila's hand and lifted her into her lap. Lila wrapped her arms tightly around Natasha, her headphones falling to the ground. "I'm so sorry _Solnyshka_ ," Natasha murmured to the little girl, "I know how scary that was for you." Lila hugged her tighter in response. "You were very brave, and everyone is safe. Uncle Steve and Uncle Tony are coming to help now."

"I wasn't brave," Lila began to cry, "I was scared the whole time!" Natasha rocked her soothingly.

"Lila, look at me," she pulled away to look Lila in the face. "Being brave doesn't mean you aren't scared. Being brave means you do the right thing even when you are."

"You aren't scared! You're never scared!"

"Lila, I am _always_ scared." Lila stared at her a moment, taking that in. Natasha brushed tears off her face with her fingers and planted a kiss on Lila's nose, "Come on, let's pick a movie to watch together." Taking her hand they got up and made their way to Lila's bed, identifiable by it's pink bedspread. Natasha tossed Lila onto it, making her giggle despite herself.

"This is a pretty impressive room." Natasha said, taking in Coopers bed, and the one set up for Clint and Laura. A big screen TV swung down from a hidden place in the ceiling. Clint nodded, "We gotta hide in style!" Distant gunfire made both Clint and Natasha jump. They looked at each other briefly, "Alright kids, settle in for a movie, get your headphones back on." Quickly they got the movie playing and both children were tucked in and distracted.

Natasha went to Clint, "She's going to try to get in another way. She won't ever quit." Clint put a hand on her shoulder, "It doesn't matter, there's no way she can get in. Steve and the others will be here by morning. You might as well get some sleep Nat." Natasha nodded grimly.

"Aunty Nat?" Lila's small voice reached Natasha's ear. "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Natasha smiled, "Of course honey," she went to sit on the edge of Lila's bed, "Scoot over." Lila smiled and scooted over to give Natasha room and Natasha lay down beside her and ran her fingers methodically through her hair. Gradually, Lila's eyes grew heavy, until at last she fell asleep. Natasha watched her even breathing and sighed, this day could have been so much worse. As the movie credits rolled and the sounds of the others sleeping filled the room, Natasha too began to feel weary, and drifted gradually until she finally fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

_Natalia…_

Natasha's sleep was fitful, her head tossing as her dreams threatened to begin.

 _Natalia…_

Her forehead creased with discomfort, a hissing sound disturbing her sleep. She fought to open her eyes, it was much more difficult than it should have been. The hissing sound continued and Natasha rolled away from it, trying to cover her head to block it out.

 _Natalia you didn't really believe that it would be that simple did you?_

Natasha sat up abruptly, drawing her weapon automatically and looked around, her face white. That voice wasn't a dream anymore. She was still next to Lila, who was sound asleep. All appeared calm, but for the hissing coming from the vents. Natasha got up to look more closely. She coughed as she inhaled a gas that she recognized immediately. A laugh from the other side of the door made her flinch, her stomach sick with dread.

"Clint, Laura wake up!"

"You know that they can't Natalia my dear. I just wanted to have a little chat with you without their interference, and since I am personally responsible for your immunity to this knock out gas, I thought it was my best option." Darya's voice was muffled slightly through the door, but Natasha heard every word. Her Red Room training had included poisons, and she had been subjected to many different kinds in order to build up a tolerance. This knock out gas was one of them. It made her drowsy, but didn't put her out. Natasha looked at the people she loved, all looking as though they were only sleeping, rather than unconscious. She had knocked out Clint and his family. Knocked out, but not killed. Her mind raced, why would she do that? Why hadn't she poisoned them all? Quickly Natasha started rummaging through the cabinets.

"Natalia. I want you back."

The words made Natasha pause with disbelief, "You tried to kill me only hours ago. You're going to need to be more creative with your lies."

Natasha could almost hear the other woman's smile, "I had to be sure you hadn't lost all my lessons after all these years. You're still as sharp as ever. I'm here to collect what is mine. We will start again together, and lead Russia to glory."

"I am not yours."

"No, from what I hear you belong to that joke of a hero, Mr. Steve Rogers." Natasha froze, her hands starting to shake. Darya continued, "Yes you two have been all over the news." Her tone quickly changed to one of scorn, "'Natasha's Revolution,' a peaceful overthrow of corrupt government. Sacrificing yourself for that clown. It makes me sick. Have you forgotten my most important lesson? Open your heart to no one if you want to be strong. They have destroyed you"

"We have different ideas of strength." The hissing suddenly stopped, making Natasha glance up at the ceiling. Darya's voice rose, "You turned your back on your country!"

Natasha felt her face flush in anger, "My country orphaned me and fed me to the wolves! I owe no allegiance to you or to Russia!" SIlence filled the space between them. When Darya spoke again, her voice was dangerous.

"It doesn't matter, soon we will be on the same page. I have complete control of the air in your little safe room. Surrender yourself to me or your friends will receive an aerosol form of Widow's venom."

Natasha gasped. Widow's venom was one tactic she had not brought with her when she escaped. She had vowed never to use it, it was a terrible way to die. Unless given the antidote in time, a person poisoned with Widow's Venom was rendered immobile as they suffered, unable even to call out for help. Frantically she rummaged through the cabinets again, "Come on Clint, help me out here.. YES!"

Quickly she pulled out five gas masks and grinned in relief, "Always be prepared. Well done." Starting with the youngest, Natasha fit each of the five gas masks on their sleeping forms, pumping oxygen back into their systems. She addressed the door, "You would kill me too? How do you benefit from poisoning them?"

"See, I don't think you will actually let such precious children suffer, and we both know I would do it." Natasha shuddered in spite of herself, beyond grateful that she had found the masks, even if there were only enough for them and not for her. She swallowed, suddenly sober. She was going to die here, and Steve would find her. She fingered her bracelet.

 _She's here, she's pumped poison through the vents. Be careful when you arrive, Clint and the others have masks on, be sure you have one too before you open the door. Steve… I love you._

She felt his question forming but quickly threw up her shield to block him out. She didn't want him to experience her death first hand. She walked to each of the beds, placing a kiss on each forehead. She was oddly calm. For though she would die, she was certain that the people she loved would be safe. Steve would find a way to survive, he always did. He would move on. She had been through so much in life, to her, death wasn't a burden as long as she had done the right thing.

"You have ten seconds to surrender yourself to me or they will all die." Natasha didn't respond, just finished her farewells and drew her gun, just to have it. She always knew she would die gun in hand. Darya's frustration was almost palpable, Natasha could hear her pacing outside the door. Suddenly her pacing stopped, and the sound of gunfire in the front yard made Natasha's heart leap. Darya cried out as gunfire from the hallway sounded, bouncing off the walls of the saferoom. Clint began to stir, the mask allowing him to wake. Suddenly a voice from the hallway made Natasha want to cry with relief.

"Natasha! I'm coming!" Steve had arrived. Natasha hit the star on her bracelet, removing her shield, _Steve! Put a mask on!_

Quickly she punched in the code to open the door, her heart hammering in her chest. Too late she heard Steve's response, _Natasha? What is going on?_

As the door slid open, Natasha stood there in confusion. The hallway was empty, and Darya Sokolov stood before her, a smile on her face. Quick as lightning Darya lunged forward, a flash of silver in her hand. The blade bit deep into her side before she even had time to even flinch. Natasha fell to her knees, the reality of her situation hitting her like a freight train. She had opened the door. Where was Steve? As if reading her mind Darya sneered, nodding to a voice recorder resting by the door. Darya hit a button, "Natasha! I'm coming!" Darya frowned at her, "You didn't recognize the recording off of the news footage?"

Natasha looked up at Darya, naked fear on her face. Darya regarded her with curiosity for a moment, then held up her blade, red with Natasha's blood, "This is no ordinary knife. It actually soaks in Widow's Venom in its sheath. It's a deadly little thing. Like you used to be. Now you fall for cheap tricks, so disappointing. I think I'll introduce myself to this Steve fellow when he arrives. I assume he's coming yes?" She laughed at the expression on Natasha's face, and knelt to pinch her cheek affectionately, "No man will be good enough for you my little killer."

Natasha blanched and pulled away. She felt the venom spread through her bloodstream like fire, slowly immobilizing her. Natasha struggled to reach for her bracelet to shield her mind from Steve but couldn't. Darya glanced into the panic room and noticed the gas masks. "Oh well aren't we clever? You nearly foiled my plan, or would have if we had found a way to weaponize Widow's Venom yet. I was hoping you wouldn't call my bluff. Lucky I had a plan B." Pain licked it's way up Natasha's limbs, tendrils of flame curling it's way up her veins to her heart. Darya studied her face, "The poison will be working now. Let's get this over with before you can't see straight anymore."

Natasha's vision darkened and blurred, but she tried desperately to hold onto consciousness. She was aware of being flat on the floor, and Darya stepping over her, her boots clicking with each step, into the room where the children lay. Natasha fought fiercely to move, to call out, but the poison had frozen her in place. Darya looked over her shoulder her at her, her knife still raised, and grinned. Clint tried to rise, but the gas had him moving sluggishly.

"Watch closely Natalia, I'm about to make you strong again."


	14. Chapter 14

"Rogers! Rogers let go of the wheel!"

Tony Stark pried Steve's white knuckled grip off the helm of the quinjet and yanked him out of the pilot's seat with some effort. He fell to his hands and knees, one arm wrapped around his torso, his breath coming short. The jet pitched sideways and continued to plummet, until finally Tony leveled it out again.

"Good God Rogers! What were you thinking?!"

Steve didn't respond, his eyes were wide open but unseeing, the events unfolding in his mind blocking out reality. Steve had been listening to Natasha attentively, trying to understand what was happening after she called out to him. Natasha had thought he had arrived, been tricked into opening the safe house door, that much he had gathered, but after that point her emotions had become so powerful that they had overwhelmed him, and he struggled to sort them out enough to see what was happening to her. Whatever Natasha had seen, it had felt like the tearing of her soul, like redemption right within reach had been yanked from her grasp, as though everything good in life had turned out to be a cruel lie. Layered over everything was a sense of complete failure, a wasted life. Steve experienced it powerfully, painfully, with only a vague awareness that the feeling did not belong to him, but it was all too familiar. He had felt this way before, and he remembered it now vividly. Bucky falling from the traincar, his hand slipping through Steve's fingers. Peggy's recent funeral, the symbol of a life he lost forever. Every man he had ever lost in battle floated before his eyes like they used to during the war. Waking up to find every friend he had was dead. Steve clenched his teeth against the abject despair that flooded through him, until as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Steve took a shuddering breath and blinked away the visions.

"Steve? What just happened?" Bucky sat before him, his face white. Steve looked at him but didn't answer, dread beginning to spread through him. "Natasha," her name came out in a whisper.

 _Natasha?!_

He was met with a silence he hadn't experienced since before they had been connected. There was nothing, no dreams, no sense of life.

"Oh my God," Steve spun around to Tony who was now flying the jet. Steve seized Tony's collar and began to drag him from the seat, "Get out of my way!" The jet veered sideways and Tony struggled for control, "What the hell Rogers?! Stop!"

Bucky and Sam quickly pulled Steve off of Tony, pressing him into a chair with effort. "Steve stop! Tell us what you saw!" Steve struggled, panic on his face. He snarled at them, "We don't have time, let me go! We have to get there NOW!" He lunged forward, knocking Sam backwards and rushing past Bucky, beyond rational thought. Wanda stepped calmly in front of him and touched his cheek. Steve froze, Wanda's power holding him in place. She looked at him sternly, "Steve, you are wasting precious time. Show me." Steve shuddered and let what he had felt flow through her, and she stumbled slightly as she received it. Vision steadied her, watching them both with concern. Bucky's face was furious, "Take that spell off him witch, or I will make you. You have no right to control him." Wanda ignored him and looked at Vision, who had put his arm around her protectively, "It's Natasha…" she stuttered, her eyes wide and welling with tears, "Clint and his family.. I think they… Darya tricked Natasha into opening the door…" Her voice trailed off in horror, everyone stared at her. Vision looked at her soberly, "And Natasha?" Wanda looked at Steve, still glowing red with her power. She looked at Bucky who was glaring at her and whispered, "He can't feel her. He thinks she's…" Steve choked and struggled furiously against Wanda but in vain. "Steve, we have to work as a team. If I let you go you MUST control yourself. You and Natasha taught us to work together, and that is what we will do." She put her hand on his shoulder, "We are here for you." She released him, and he turned and paced to the back of the plane and stopped, his hands balled. He slammed his fist repeatedly into the wall then turned and looked at his team, who watched him warily. Tony spoke up from the pilot's seat, "Suit up everyone, we're landing in five." Steve glared at the ground, trembling. Wanda went to him hesitantly, "Steve.." she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder but he caught her wrist in his hand. Seeing her frightened expression Steve released her, somewhat ashamed, but too sick with worry to give it much thought. He looked at her angrily, "Just stay out of my way Wanda." She looked stricken, but he didn't notice as he went to get his shield, his mind far away, dwelling on a foreign silence that seemed to drag him into a dark hole of despair.

Natasha. Clint. Laura and the children. Could it be possible? Were they all dead? Were Natasha's final thoughts in life that she had been a failure? Had her nightmares finally become reality? He felt ill as he waited there during the painful minutes it took them to land. Bucky stood silently beside him but Steve barely noticed. If she was dead he would never forgive himself. He had made the wrong choice, fleeing to Wakanda like a coward, letting her fight battles that were too big for her on her own. Ice seemed to settle in his veins, and he knew that after this day, no matter what had happened, he would not come out of it unchanged.

The jet landed with a thud. Steve slammed the button that released the door and was off before it had even completely opened.


	15. Chapter 15

_I'm about to make you strong again… again… again…._

Clint watched as Natasha's eyes followed Darya's blade as it raised up high above his daughter. He had never seen a more terrible expression on a person's face before, the anguish there was unmistakable. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she spasmed, then went still. A roaring filled his ears. Darya moved as if in slow motion, the knife only just beginning to descend. Clint forced his sluggish mind to focus, and drew out his bow from his bedside. With painful concentration, he aimed his weapon at Darya and released. He heard the dull thud hit her with grim satisfaction. Clint looked at her and frowned, he had only managed to hit her in the shoulder, but her suit had protected her from most of it. She reeled backwards into the hall, catching herself against the wall. She screamed at him in rage, but he was already drawing another arrow with the intent to shoot her where she had no armor, straight through her head.

"Dad?!" Cooper was awake, and looked at him with wide eyes. Clint hesitated, unwilling to kill so brutally in front of his son. Darya started forward again, and Clint's heart tore as he loosed, for the arrow hit the button on the wall, and the door to the panic room slid tightly shut, leaving Natasha on the outside. Clint put his face in his hand in grief. He stayed there, stunned, for what felt like hours.

Slowly, one by one, his family woke, and Clint struggled to behave normally, heartbroken at the thought of telling his children, but of course they knew. Where was Auntie Nat? The question echoed in his ears again and again, each time the question became more tearful, more panicked. He shook his head, in a daze, pressing his ear to the door, straining for any sound that would tell him what Darya was doing. A shout sent him scrambling for his bow. "Laura, get the kids and get behind me!" He notched an arrow and aimed it at the door, not sure what to expect. Suddenly the door shot open, making Clints heart rise to his throat.

"Don't shoot!" Steve stood before them, his face white as a sheet, disbelief on his face. Behind him on the floor was a bloodstain smear that trailed down the hallway, Natasha's body nowhere to be seen. Steve looked at Clint with desperation, "Please tell me she's in here. Please Clint. You're alive and so is she. Just tell me where." The rest of the team caught up to Steve, filing into the room behind him. Tony barked orders, "Get everyone to the jet, Wanda, shield please, just in case." Wanda quickly put up a protective force field around them, and they all began exiting the room. Steve's eyes never left Clint's. Clint's expression was torturous, "The Russian drugged us Steve," he said, his voice low to avoid being overheard by the children, "Nat somehow got us all into gas masks and saved us. She saved my family, my children."

Steve shook his head slowly, "But where is she Clint. Where's Natasha?"

Clint hesitated, "Sokolov… she used a recording of your voice to get her to open the door. She wasn't prepared… Sokolov stabbed her with a poisoned blade."

As the last person left the room Steve closed the distance between them and seized Clint by the shirt, "Answer. My. Question." Clint looked at Steve sorrowfully, "She died Steve."

Steve shook him, "NO! You're alive when she thought you were dead. She thought Darya killed you and so did I. But you're here and she is too. She has to be!"

Clint struggled with his words, choking on his own grief, "I saw her die. Sokolov must have taken her. She was lying right there when… when the door closed."

Steve dropped him unceremoniously, backing away in disbelief. "This is where.." He swallowed hard looking at the blood, "You… You shut her out there? You shut her out there with her worst nightmare?"

"No! Steve she was gone! If I didn't close that door my family would be dead!"

"And now my family is! Clint she's all I have!"

Clint approached Steve angrily, "I didn't kill her! Listen to me, we cannot fight about this, Natasha would have wanted me to do it." Steve landed a punch straight to his face that sent Clint flying. He groaned and struggled in vain to stand. Steve bent over him his eyes wild, " You don't know that. You should have protected her. She trusted you."

He stalked towards the door. Clint rolled over with a grunt, "Where are you going?"

Steve didn't look back, "I won't let them have her." He ran then, almost blinded by rage and tears into the treeline and to the road.

When Clint arrived at the quinjet his eye was swollen, his nose broken. Various exclamations went up from the team. Clint put up his hand, "I'm fine." Laura ran to him and took his face in her hands, fussing over his bruises. "Where is Steve? What happened?"

Clint looked at her, his expression pained, "He's just lost the woman he loves. Again. Cap has gone rogue. I couldn't stop him."

Bucky sprang to his feet, "Which way?"

Clint pointed, and Bucky started to leave. "Wait," Tony handed him a communication device, "In case you need us." Bucky nodded and tucked it away, then left at a run to find his friend. Unseen by anyone, a lone Black Widow watched him go, and followed stealthily behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

Darya Sokolov trudged through the woods with purpose, Natasha slung across her shoulders. She gritted her teeth in concentration, she hadn't come this far to lose now. She quickened her pace, hearing the sound of a jet landing on the Barton property about a half mile away. She hadn't expected her former student to be taken under by the poison so quickly. "Ever a disappointment," she muttered to Natasha's limp form.

Finally, Darya arrived at where a small jet waited, camouflaged in the woods. She pounded on the door and it opened, a middle aged woman with red hair at the door. Darya thrust Natasha at her, "Give her the antidote, quickly. She's almost beyond reach." The woman scooped Natasha up into the plane and quickly stuck a needle into her arm. She looked at Natasha's face, "Natalia Romanoff, the legend." She looked at Darya, "She's so young Darya, are you sure this is the way to go? She's been away a long time." Darya climbed into the plane and quickly pulled the door shut, preparing for take off. She nodded, "Trust me Anka, I trained her myself and I have never seen her equal. She is exactly what we need to start again. If all my students had been as good as her, The Black Widow Program would never have fallen."

"And the Avengers?"

"They think she died." Darya looked down at Natasha, bloody and white faced, "She certainly played her part well, although a little prematurely. I had hoped she would witness the murder of her friends." She shrugged, "She believes I killed the Bartons at least. She will need to continue to believe it." She frowned to herself, "I intended to kill Rogers as well but I didn't have time. I left Valeria to scope out more information for us. He will need to be taken care of at some point."

Anka snorted, "Valeria is worthless. You know that as well as I do."

"She's all we have left!" snapped Darya.

Anka blinked, "The others?"

Darya looked grim, "Natalia took them all."

Anka struck the table, "They were all we had Darya! I told you this mission was too risky!"

"It was worth it!" Darya burst out angrily. She jutted a finger at Natasha, "We have her, we don't need the rest!"

Anka considered her for a moment, silence stretching out between them. FInally she nodded and began to examine Natasha more carefully. Lifting her shirt she frowned, "Darya, you stabbed her yes? With a stinger?" Darya patted the blade strapped her her side, "A little too well it turns out."

Anka shook her head, "I don't understand…" Darya looked back from the pilot's seat, irritated. "What is there to understand? I stabbed her."

Anka lifted Natasha's shirt higher and turned to Darya, "Look. Where did you stab her?" The wound looked to be a few days old, already scabbed over. Darya scrambled from the front seat to where Natasha lay, examining the stab wound breathlessly. "Impossible," she breathed, "This is where I stabbed her, there's no question." Darya looked at Anka, her face luminous, "I can't believe it. She's already enhanced. This makes her so much more valuable!" She looked at Natasha greedily, inches from her face, "How did you do it?" Anka smiled wickedly, "She'll tell us soon enough." They both laughed, the certain triumph of their mission suddenly clear before them. With a whir of the engine, the little plane took off, location unknown.


	17. Chapter 17

Steve ran until it was dark and he couldn't run anymore. He stopped, his hands on his knees, struggling for breath. He needed a plan, he couldn't just run hoping to find her. He had to think. His anger blinded him, made it hard for him to concentrate. He struck out at a tree with a roar, sending chunks of bark and wood flying. He had failed her, just like he had failed Peggy, but worse. He sat on a rock and put his head in his hands, trying to control his breathing. He tried to clear his mind, to form a strategy, but the image of the bloodstained floor and the intimate knowledge he had of Natasha's final, terrified thoughts besieged him. Abruptly he stood and started gathering twigs, and then branches, until he had a good pile of firewood. The action calmed him, and steadied his mind as he set about making a fire. He would rest for a while and gather his thoughts before he continued.

As the fire roared, Steve stared into the flame, thinking. If she was dead why would they take her body? What could they want with it? Proof maybe? To show they had accomplished their mission? He shook his head in revulsion. He had failed her in life, but he wouldn't fail her in death. If she was dead, and the silence reigning in his mind suggested it was so, he was determined to get her body back for a proper burial far from the people who had made her life a living Hell. The snap of a twig brought Steve to his feet.

"Easy. Steve it's me." Bucky stood before him, his metal arm catching the firelight.

"Bucky? How did you find me?"

"The fire led me right to you. Are you crazy? Lighting a fire with Black Widows possibly around?"

Steve say back down and stared into the flame again, "Let them come." Bucky looked at his friend soberly. Steve's face had not regained its color. His eyes were dry and flat, missing their usual twinkle. His shoulders were hunched as if awaiting a blow. Bucky felt his heart sink, fear for his friend settled heavily on him. He put his hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve jumped up again as though he had been burned, the comforting touch of a friend feeling like a betrayal. What comfort had she had in her final, terrible moments? None. Bucky looked at him, bewildered.

"Bucky I- I'm sorry I just can't." Bucky nodded slowly, "I understand." Steve paced the fire anxiously, aimlessly. Looking at Bucky briefly he asked, "Do you have any news? Where did they take her?"

Bucky shook his head, "We don't know. The team is going to look into it once the Bartons are safely back at base." Steve dragged his hand along his face in frustration. Bucky looked down at his feet and then up again, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No Buck! I want to DO something about it! How was I hiding in Wakanda while she was here? What inspired me to run like that? To leave her here alone to face this? What does that say about me? What kind of man am I that I abandon the women I love?"

Bucky's voice was low, "You loved her Steve. She knew it. She needed you to be out of the way so she could do what was necessary to save those kids. And she did."

"You didn't feel what I felt! What she felt! Buck she died in despair!" Steve tried to continue, to describe what he had seen but his throat seemed to close, his eyes growing hot. He fell to his knees, his hands closing around fistfulls of dirt and wept. Bucky went to him and wrapped him in a tight hug, knowing that no words would soothe him. Steve let him this time, and leaned heavily on him. Steve whispered in an anguished voice, "I loved her Bucky. And now she's gone. Why does this happen to me?"

Bucky squeezed his shoulder and shook his head, wiping away a tear of his own, "I don't know buddy. I really don't."


	18. Chapter 18

Natasha woke slowly without opening her eyes. Her body felt useless, as if she had been immobile for days. She stifled a groan, every fiber of her muscles were burning with stiffness as she lay crumpled on her side. Her mind felt numb, and she struggled to remember something important. Suddenly she heard Steve in her head, a wave of crippling grief accompanying his words.

 _I'm so sorry Natasha. I'm so sorry I failed you. I love you…_

Natasha gritted her teeth against the pain he was feeling, his grief cutting her to her core. She began to call out to him in response but a voice from her past chilled her and stopped her mid thought.

"Valeria says that Rogers is stopped for the night, accompanied by the other enhanced. We need to send someone after him to bring him in."

Natasha's mind was suddenly inundated with the memory of the last few hours. As a wave of guilt threatened to crush her, she reached her fingers to her bracelet, blocking herself from Steve. He thought she was dead, she realized. If he knew she was alive, nothing would stop him from coming for her, and he would walk right into the arms of his own assassins. She doubted Darya had plans for her to survive for very long anyway, no need for him to mourn her twice. There was too much to feel. She knew that by putting up her shield against him, her odds of ever seeing him again were very slim. She scrunched her eyes shut tight against the pain. _Ok Natasha, you have ten seconds to feel._

She slowly tried to straighten herself from fetal position, but couldn't stop a groan from escaping her lips as her muscles protested her motion. Darya's head snapped up and a grin crossed her face. Natasha lay helplessly on a gurney, wrestling with the grief and the hatred rolling through her.

"Good morning sunshine! You were out quite a while! I don't imagine you feel very well do you?"

Natasha pressed her face into the thin mattress and didn't respond, Darya's voice conjuring nightmarish memories.

"Let's take a look at you," Darya reached for Natasha but Natasha struck out at her, missing Darya entirely, her arm didn't seem to be working well. Darya laughed, "Good girl. But let's get you healed up before you try to fight me. At least then it will be fair. Let me help you."

Natasha rolled painfully to her back and spat in her face, "You killed them. You killed Clint, his wife, his CHILDREN!"

"Yes," Darya said calmly, wiping her cheek, "He should have known better than to steal something of mine. He should have known you were not worth the price."

Natasha threw herself forward in an attempt to attack Darya, but her body would not cooperate. She caught herself up on the sheet and fell heavily off the bed and to the ground. She lay still there for a minute at Darya's feet, tears streaming down her face."I hate you," she whispered into the cold tile, venom in her voice.

Darya smiled, "You're starting to sound like your old self. Anka? Come help me with her."

Natasha stared at her in sudden recognition. Flashes of memories shot rapid fire behind her eyes, her childhood friend Sasha rising above them all. Anka had been her Sasha's handler. Bile rose in Natasha's throat.

The two Widows lifted Natasha up from the floor and back onto the bed. She struggled, but their iron grip did not loosen. They strapped her wrists and ankles to the bed frame tightly.

"This wouldn't be necessary if you were a little more compliant," Anka said pointedly, tightening her bonds.

"Go to Hell," Natasha spat. Anka shrugged and left the room. Wordlessly, Darya began working out the knots in Natasha's body, digging her fingers into the muscles of her arms. Natasha strained against the unwanted touch, but the bonds held firm. Darya spoke as she worked, "You will need time for the poison to work itself out of your system. After that you will be able to move normally. Massage will speed that along."

Natasha grimaced as Darya dug her thumb into her shoulder, but felt her muscles begin to loosen. She narrowed her eyes at Darya, "Why are you doing this? Why not just kill me?"

"I told you. I need you back. It will all be clear later. For now just rest." Natasha's head throbbed, the muscles in her neck sending shooting pains into her skull. Every time Darya touched her she jolted unpleasantly. Darya noticed and frowned. Carefully she placed a face mask attached to a tube over Natasha's mouth and nose. "Just relax Natalia. It's all going to be ok now." Natasha held her breath for as long as she could, but finally breathed in the gas. She was instantly drowsy, and in another few seconds had fallen deeply asleep. Darya smiled softly at her, "I'm going to make you the pride of Russia once more," she said as she fingered a strand of Natasha's iconic red hair for a moment before she continued to work the knots out of her body.


	19. Chapter 19

Natasha floated in and out of reality, not quite asleep, not quite awake. Her body had ceased to ache, her muscles finally releasing their tension. Steve lay beside her, his body warm against her back. She craned her head back to look at him, confused. "You shouldn't be here," she muttered, blinking to try and clear the haze over her vision, "It's not safe."

Steve smiled, "You should have known I would come. I swore to you I would. I never lie." He bent and kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.

" _There's no way she was able to gain that enhancement on her own. Look at his file, Rogers has that same power. That can't be a coincidence. They're lovers Darya."_ The sound of Anka's voice nearby made Natasha stiffen, her stomach fluttering in a panic. She turned into Steve, "You have to go! You can't be here!"

Steve just smiled at her, "I'll be fine. I'm staying."

" _I've run the tests on her blood. There's an element there that doesn't match what we have on file for her but it's trace. We need the original source, and I think it's him. Don't kill him Darya, capture him. He could be the final piece."_

Natasha struggled to sit up but couldn't make her body obey. Steve looked at her tenderly, completely ignorant of the conversation Natasha was hearing. She snarled at him, "Get out of here Steve, they're looking for you!" Steve shook his head, "I can't. Not this time."

" _We don't have the resources to capture him!"_

" _Then make her do it." There was a pause, "She is resilient. Maybe it will work on her."_

" _We can't afford for her to die."_

" _I think it's our best chance."_

Natasha's breathing hitched as she heard footsteps coming her way. She took his face in her hands and begged him, "Please Steve, leave me! They will kill you! I can't bear one more death!"

Steve looked up as Darya entered the room, and Natasha's eyes flew open as she sat up. She looked around, bewildered. Steve was nowhere to be found. She sat on the hospital bed in an austere room, sterile in it's decor. The lights above were bright and painful to her eyes. Darya looked at her with disgust.

"See how he has weakened you? Calling out his name in your sleep. The Natalia I knew needed no one, succeeded at every mission." She turned from her and muttered, "Right up until Kristoff. I still can't quite believe that."

Natasha didn't respond, still reeling from the sudden absence of Steve. She was relieved he was still safe, but his departure left her with an emptiness inside. If she was going to have even a remote chance of survival, she knew she needed to concentrate. As Darya sat and typed something on her computer, Natasha closed her eyes. Tenderly, she brought up each one of the Barton family that she had lost, and placed them in the farthest point of her mind to mourn later. She cut away at their hold on her heart, the stranglehold that kept her from functioning. They were gone, and she would pay for their loss, but not now. As she stripped them from her heart, she felt the softness leave her, hardening into what she was more familiar with as a spy; detachment. Darya and Anka were up to something more than revenge, and Natasha felt duty bound to figure it out. Mentally she reviewed what she knew. Darya was interested in her enhancement, she had figured out her healing power. She still didn't know about her connection with Steve, and Natasha felt certain she never would. They wanted Steve, originally for power over her, but now possibly to study the serum in his blood. Natasha knew what they would find there, the key to super soldiers.

She opened her eyes and looked at Darya, "Tell me why you have captured me here. I am a traitor to Russia, what good am I to you?"

Darya looked up at her thoughtfully, "You were the best student I ever trained. Your flaw turned out to be an appreciation for kindness, perhaps because I never showed you any. I want to rectify that."

Natasha laughed, a painful sound, "You threatened my friends, poisoned me by stabbing, killed them, and kidnapped me so that you could be KIND? Well let me just say, really well done there. I'm all softened up." She strained forward against her ties, "I will NEVER help you."

Darya stood abruptly, her tone severe, "What those people showed you was not kindness, it was pity. They never knew the true you. Not really. They twisted you into someone that you aren't. Tell me _Natasha_ , if you had shown them every aspect of your red Room training, every mission you completed, would they still be so trusting of you, so kind?"

Natasha hesitated. It was a question she had often wondered. Even with all she had shared with Clint, with Steve, she had never told them everything. She shook her head. How could she doubt them? When they had proven their love and loyalty over and over again?

Darya watched her closely, "I can see that there is a part of you that wonders." She drew closer to Natasha, seeming to hesitate, "I know that we taught you girls that you had no place in the world. We did that to protect you from becoming attached. The truth is… You belong here. You are a black Widow, you belong with your own kind."

Natasha looked at her, her gaze icy, "Truth? Truth is what you make it. Is your opinion of me so low that you think I would fall for such a classic manipulation? That I would forget that particular lesson?"

Darya grinned, "Some lessons stick don't they my dear? I'm glad."

Natasha looked at her surroundings, her eyes narrow. "Where have you brought me? Not Russia, I would feel it. Where are your newest recruits clamoring to see a real live traitor? I remember you bringing back failed Widows. It wasn't so long ago."

Darya pursed her lips, "The widow program is not what it should be. After you disappeared you can imagine what they did to me. I'm sure you relished the thought." She turned and lifted her shirt so Natasha could see her back, a veritable maze of scars. Natasha's expression didn't change. She met Darya's eyes, "I had hoped they would kill you actually."

Darya nodded, "That was their plan, but it didn't work out that way. It turns out they needed me, my training with enhanced individuals makes me valuable to the next phase of the Black Widow Program. Or would have, if SHIELD hadn't tracked down our headquarters and effectively shut down the program. I assume you had something to do with that?"

Natasha was silent. She had begged Nick Fury to take on the mission, to shut down the Black Widow program in the hopes that she would be safe, and no more girls would grow up like she did. He had agreed, but refused to let her in on his plan. She hadn't known for certain if he had succeeded based off her intel.

Darya's eyes sparked with barely concealed fury as she analysed Natasha's carefully blank face.

"I thought so. Now I'm just stuck with scars and failed students to retrain. We don't have time to raise a new generation of Widows, so we are exploring… other options. I notice your signature scars are missing. Why don't you tell me how that happened?"

Natasha swallowed, but said nothing. Darya sneered, "What? You thought I wouldn't notice? I gave you half of those scars myself! Tell me what happened to them." Natasha looked up, "Excellent scar creams. Thor is really into beauty products." Natasha smirked. Darya looked at her thoughtfully and went to sit back down in front of her computer. Hitting a key decisively, audio began to play. Steve's voice made Natasha's stomach clench, she couldn't bear the idea of Darya seeing him, listening to his voice. Steve spoke:

"Two days ago, Natasha Romanoff, also know as The Black Widow was drugged and captured by the US government under the authority of Senator Everett Ross. As you know, Ms. Romanoff willingly signed the Accords, which afforded her rights within the law. Ross captured her in an effort to blackmail me into signing the Accords despite this."

Darya hit pause and looked over at her suspiciously. "Tell me Natalia, why did the US government think that you were the best tool to use against Steve Rogers as blackmail?"

Natasha gave her a withering look, "Rogers is bound by a code of honor. They could have picked anyone and he would have felt duty bound to save them. It's a sickness."

"They didn't pick anyone, they picked you. Natalia Romanoff, notoriously hard to capture. There would have been many easier targets. Not to mention the rest of the footage showing your truly selfless sacrifice to save him. The evidence is all right here. Don't play games, you've fallen for him. You have a weakness for kind men." Her voice rose, "After your serious injuries you fall into a coma, but somehow, miraculously, you recover, only now you have the power to heal that matches the power of your dear lover. Do you still want to pretend like there is no connection between you?"

Natasha looked at Darya, exasperated "You are really grasping here. The United States has the best healthcare in the world. That's the source of your little miracle. Not Steve Rogers. I just heal quickly is all."

Darya's face twitched, "You really do love him. That's problematic… Anka?"

Anka appeared moments later in the doorway. "Prep her. We're doing this the hard way. We have no choice"

Anka looked at Natasha gravely, "Will she survive it?"

Darya nodded, "This one will. I know it."

Natasha looked between them both, alarmed. Anka unlocked the wheels on her bed and rolled her into the next room. As she saw the contraption before her, the red star glaring it's light upon her bed, it suddenly all became clear. She struggled frantically, ripping away one of the bonds on her wrist. As Darya called out in warning, Natasha landed a blow to the side of Anka's head. She kicked out viciously and freed her feet, leaping off the bed and kicking out at Darya as she came closer. She yanked in a panic at the final bond on her wrist, still kicking to keep Darya at bay until finally she was free.

Natasha lunged at Darya, who parried quickly and hit her square in the stomach. Natasha absorbed it with a grunt and turned back to Darya in time to see Anka get back to her feet. The three of them stared at each other for a moment, sizing each other up. Anka grinned and pulled her dark hair back, blue eyes sparkling dangerously. "Come on Darya, I want to see what your best student is capable of."

Natasha felt herself center as she always did when she fought. Her mind cleared, her focus sharpened, and emotion melted away. Mentally she took note of everything in the room, anything that could possibly be used as a weapon. Darya circled her slowly, Anka warily keeping Natasha at a distance. Natasha swung at Darya, who blocked her easily. Natasha tried again, sending blow after blow, kicked after kick but it was as if Darya could read her mind. Blocking again Darya caught Natasha not guarding her face and connected her fist to Natasha's cheek. She reeled backwards, disoriented. Darya screeched at her, "You aren't fighting some thug Natasha, you're fighting the best! Get up and stop embarrassing me."

She was right, Natasha realized. She couldn't treat Darya like any other adversary, this woman had taught her everything she knew. She switched gears. Natasha's eyes pricked with tears of pain and she allowed it, putting her hands up before her. "Please," she said, her voice wavering, "I don't want to fight. I'll do what you want, just don't put me in that chair. I've seen what it does. Don't put me through it." She nursed her jaw where she had been punched, blood staining her lip.

Anka frowned, "How does she know about the chair?"

Darya answered, not taking her eyes off Natasha, "Barnes is one of them now." She strode towards Natasha with a purpose, seizing the hair at the base of her skull and turning her so they were directly face to face. "You will obey me, or the chair is your fate. Do you understand?"

Natasha trembled, "What do I have to do?"

"Get Steve Rogers here to us."

Natasha's eyes widened, "What for? What will you do to him?" Darya's grip on her hair tightened, and Natasha flinched. Darya smiled into her face, "Russia will have it's own brand of super soldier. Imagine it, Black Widows who heal themselves, with superhuman strength. You will be the reason Russia becomes a world power again, and I will be vindicated."

Natasha's foot connected to the side of Darya's knee with a sickening crack. Darya let her go and shrieked in pain, but Natasha was already raining punches down on her face, driving her to the floor. Natasha ducked as Anka swung at her, pulling Darya's knife out of her boot and slashing at Anka. Anka grabbed her wrist and they grappled for control of the weapon until Darya rose painstakingly on one leg and hammered her fist into Natasha's temple. Natasha fell, dazed. Vaguely she was aware of being lifted off the ground, but only realized what was happening when she was seated in a chair. She flailed wildly, hitting the star on her bracelet.

 _STEVE!_

With one final punch, Darya sent Natasha spiraling into a world of darkness.


	20. Chapter 20

Bucky watched his friend sadly as he twitched and moved in his sleep. It had been two days since Natasha's death, and still they were no closer to finding her body. Steve had not eaten, his conversation short and strained. Bucky was glad to see him sleeping, Steve's body finally overriding his mind in his exhaustion. Bucky drew circles in the dirt with a stick, glancing up at Steve occasionally. Something needed to be done. Steve needed closure.

Suddenly, Steve sat bolt upright with a gasp, a sheen of sweat covering his face.

"Natasha!"

Bucky got up and went to him, putting a hand firmly on his shoulder, "Steve, it was a dream." Steve shook his hand off and stood looking around wildly.

"No Buck. She's in trouble. I heard her! She's alive! We have to go!" His face was lit up with fierce joy, he started to turn and run back the way they had come but Bucky stopped him forcefully, "Steve. You were asleep. Natasha died two days ago remember?"

"No Buck you don't understand how our connection works. I swear to you I heard her! Just now she woke me, called my name! I don't know how but she's alive I am certain of it." Steve choked on a hysterical laugh as he tried to dodge past Bucky, "But she's in trouble, we have to go!" Steve's eyes were wild, rimmed red with exhaustion and grief. There was a hardness to him that Bucky hadn't seen before. Bucky shook his head sadly, still standing firmly in Steve's way, "Steve…" Steve seized Bucky by the shoulders and gave him a shake, "You have to believe me Buck!"

Bucky jerked away from him, his patience waning, "Steve stop this! You cannot live in a delusion! Natasha is gone! I'm so sorry but that's the truth. I can't bear to see you this way!"

Steve turned away from him and started quickly gathering his things, "You have got to listen to me Buck. I was asleep, but I wasn't dreaming. She's woken me like this before from inside my head. She's alive."

Bucky watched him, his expression exasperated, "Steve, Barton saw everything. Natasha is -"

At that moment a branch overhead cracked and came crashing down towards them. Bucky and Steve leaped out of the way just in time. Coming down with the branch was a young woman, landing unceremoniously at their feet among the broken twigs and pine needles. She coughed as the breath was knocked out of her, a look of panic on her face. She leapt to her feet at the sight of Bucky and Steve staring down at her in astonishment, racing to the edge of the treeline before Steve caught up with her. He grabbed her arm firmly, "Wait!" She turned and aimed a vicious kick at his groin, making Steve flinch to protect himself and lose his grip on her. She took off again but Bucky headed her off. Getting in front he held up his hands, "Just wait! We don't want to hurt you!"

The girl laughed a bitter laugh and dodged him, but Steve caught her arm again pinning both to her sides and pressed her against a tree. "Stop," he said firmly, "We need to talk." The girl glared at him, her green eyes practically sparking with electric rage. He stared at her for a moment in shock. The girl looked to be about seventeen years old, her petite frame and small features making him think of Natasha. Her dark hair curled over her shoulders, twigs tangled into it from her fall. It felt wrong to restrain her so forcefully, she was so young and small, but Steve pushed the thought away. If she had information about Natasha, he would find out, no matter what that meant. Taking advantage of his pause, the girl struck a knee into Steve's stomach. Steve absorbed the blow with minor difficulty, deftly stealing a knife from the girls combat style boot and swiftly pressing it to her throat. She froze. Steve was silent a moment before speaking, "I am in a hurry, and I don't have time for your adolescent, sub par, spy games. Tell me who you are and why you are here."

The girl spat at him, saying something in Russian that Steve didn't understand.

Bucky's eyes went wide, "She's a widow Steve. I'd bet you my last dollar. She just said a few words you wouldn't appreciate me repeating. That girl has a mouth..."

Steve nodded and frowned, his knife hand steady at her throat, "Not a very good Widow… She fell out of a tree..."

Bucky shrugged, "Well she's very young." He examined her face carefully, the girl jutted her chin pridefully. "She even looks like a Widow, beautiful, unassuming, deadly."

Steve nodded, "Reminds me of Nat."

Bucky circled her, tying off her wrists so Steve could take the knife away. He pulled a communication device from her belt, an unfinished message still lighting the screen. Bucky's eyes narrowed as he read it out loud in English for Steve's benefit, "The captain suspects about the asset-"

Bucky looked up at Steve in wonder, his heart lightening, "Steve, is this possible?" Steve didn't answer, but searched the girl carefully, disarming her from about a dozen weapons hidden all over her person. The girls shirt was torn from her fall, hanging ripped over her shoulder. As he searched her, he noticed a tattoo peeking it's way out of her collar. He pulled aside the material to reveal a red hourglass design on her left shoulder. He let out a shaky breath. " She's with them. They have Nat. Why?"

Bucky stared wide eyed at the tattoo, "Steve can you hear Nat now?"

Steve closed his eyes to listen. He frowned, "I… I do hear something but I don't think it's her… At least it doesn't sound familiar. Usually her mind is very clear, but all I hear is, well it sounds like radio static in a way." He opened his eyes, frustrated. "We need her to give us the information. Bucky ask her."

Bucky turned to the girl and spoke in flawless Russian, "Where are they keeping Natasha Romanov?"

The girl smirked and looked away. Bucky grabbed her chin and turned her to face him, "Tell us where she is being kept." The girl just smiled infuriatingly, not saying a word. Steve pushed him aside, looming over her, "Tell us!" The girl laughed this time, and soon they saw why. Her hands sprung out from behind her, no longer tied and she swung at Steve before bounding away into the treeline.

* * *

Tony Stark's forehead was scrunched in frustrated concentration as he pounded away at his keyboard searching for anything that would lead them to Darya Sokolov. He pushed away from the desk suddenly in frustration. The door to the lab slid open and Clint walked in, still wearing the haunted look he had adopted in the last few days. Tony looked at him, and Clint shook his head.

"I can't find a damn thing. It's like she just disappeared! Where the hell is she?!" He kicked the trash bin in frustration. Tony grimaced, "It's the same for me. Not one damn clue to lead us to her. What we need is a source-"

At that moment, Steve and Bucky came bursting through the door, looking far worse for wear, holding between them a heavily bound teenager.

"Jesus Christ!" Tony exclaimed, getting to his feet.

"We need a secure place to keep her for questioning," Steve said, his voice belying his exhaustion. He pulled the ripped shirt away from the girl's shoulder, "She's a Black Widow."

Tony looked at the girl in wonder, "SHE did this to you?" He asked, taking in Steve's shiny black eye and the claw marks across Bucky's face.

"Russians." Bucky said by way of explanation, "Now do you have a place or what? Natasha is alive, or was about two hours ago. This girl could take us to her. We have to work to do."


	21. Chapter 21

Darya Sokolov winced as she shifted in her chair, her shattered knee and bruised face irking her as she eyed her work critically. She pushed the needle into Natasha's skin with grim satisfaction. The hourglass design for Natalia's tattoo had been her idea. It was uniform, matching the others, but with a special twist, marking her as the first of many enhanced widows. Located over her heart, the tattoo rested just under her collar bone. Darya made some final adjustments with her tattoo pen, the midnight ink contrasting sharply with the blood red outline, a delicate red crown peeking just over the top of the hourglass. She glanced up at Natalia's face, drawn and pale in the dim lighting. She stared straight ahead, expressionless, not even flinching when the needle pierced her skin.

Natalia's brain wipe had proven more difficult than expected. Her memories were strong, like everything else about her, and stripping them from her mind had taken many repetitious treatments in the chair. Her memories of Steve Rogers were the last to release, their hold on her was stronger than Darya had expected. Darya scowled as she worked, Rogers had no business having such sway over her star pupil. It had taken a great deal of time and effort, the toll on Natalia was heavy, but the results were inescapable. Anka had erased everything up until before Natalia had gone rogue. It was a brand new beginning.

Darya touched Natasha's cheek, taking her chin and turning her face to examine the bruises and cuts that trailed down her neck from the base of her skull. She frowned, they weren't healing as quickly as she felt they should be with her enhancement. The chair was a brutal treatment, one that had killed lesser subjects. The many injections required to wipe the brain was a burden some bodies just couldn't bear. Natalia had undergone more treatment than most, along with the brutality of Anka's punishment for her escape. She had held up as Darya knew she would, but at a cost. Natasha was thinner, her curves becoming sharper and less inviting. Circles under her eyes told of her exhaustion. The skin of her arms and back bore the marks of her ill treatment, and they weren't healing like was left of her when they finished was a shadow of what they had started with. But Darya felt certain that with some recovery time and a carefully crafted new memory, Natalia would be all they needed her to be; vicious, obedient, with no attachments or qualms. Darya smiled, Natalia was formidable, despite her haggard appearance. They were so close to victory. She wrapped a scarlett curl around her finger affectionately.

"You are my star. Now that you are home we will conquer the world together."Natasha looked at her calmly with no trace her her former revulsion.

"Go and rest now, you will need your strength." Natasha nodded and got up to go, examining her new tattoo with only mild curiosity. Darya watched as she walked over to her bed and lay down, Anka entered, taking in Darya and Natasha with a sweeping blue gaze. Looking down at Natasha on her bed she spoke, her tone crisp, "Wrist." Natasha obediently held out her hand, which Anka secured firmly to the bed frame, the handcuff clicking as it locked. Arm stretched above her head, Natasha's eyes drifted shut, and she fell asleep.

Darya watched her for a moment, "She looks just like she did when she first came to us. Were we ever that young Anka?"

Anka rolled her eyes, "Don't go soft on me Darya. She's not so young. She's seen plenty in her life that would age even the best of us."

Darya glanced down at her knee, bandaged heavily, "I think she is the best of us, were it not for her unfortunate worldview. That's why Ivan wants her." Anka scowled as she looked at Natasha, then shrugged, "She will have whatever worldview we decide. We will finish the treatment tonight." She paused, "Darya, this Rogers character, I'm worried that despite our efforts Natalia might break through if she is alone with him for too long. Her connection to him was extraordinarily hard to break, I can't help but wonder if there is some sort of enhanced explanation for it."

Darya frowned, "What are you saying Anka? We need him to complete the enhancement project. I need his blood to heal. She is all we have with Valeria missing, we don't have time to hunt down the others."

Anka scowled, "If we aren't quick Valeria could ruin the whole operation. Idiot girl, getting captured so quickly."

"We have Natalia Romanov, Anka she is our winning play. Valeria is nothing. She fears us too much to talk."

Anka nodded slowly, "She better be, or Ivan will make us pay." Darya's face paled slightly, "We won't fail. Ivan will have his Widow back, and better than when he left her." She paused, brooding, "What did you have in mind?"

Anka leaned forward conspiratorially, "We use Natalia as bait rather than sending her in alone. We plant a false memory to make her hate him. Let her draw him in for her revenge and kill him. We can take the blood we need bag Natalia and be back in Russia before the week is out."

Darya's mouth pulled into a frown, "He is more useful alive, the blood supply would be ongoing."

Anka shook her head and looked at Natasha again, "I'm telling you, there's something odd about their connection. It was too difficult to break. We need him dead if we are going to make her truly ours again. Remember Kristoff? Let's take what we need and go. This wasn't even in the plans, Ivan is expecting us to deliver him Romanov, not Captain America."

Darya nodded, "Do it. Plant the memories and be done with it."

Anka smiled a cruel smile, and unlocked Natasha's cuff.


	22. Chapter 22

_Natasha smiled up at Steve as he approached her, wrapping her arms around his waist, utterly trusting. He smiled back and leaned in to kiss her, slow and lingering, his mouth soft against hers. He pulled away to let his lips trail down her neck and along her jaw, and Natasha sighed. Making his way back up, his lips brushed her ear._

" _You fell for it, " he whispered._

 _Natasha's eyes closed sleepily, "Hmm?"_

" _You fell for your own con."_

 _Natasha's eyes opened, her brow furrowed in confusion, but too late. The red hot pain of a knife slid through her side, and Natasha jerked away from the searing pain. Her hands clasped to her side as the blood came, and Natasha's eyes were glued in wide horror to Steve's face. He smiled at her, and Natasha's mind struggled to process._

" _You stabbed me? Steve.."_

 _Steve lifted the blade, crimson with Natasha's blood, and her eyes lit with recognition._

" _Where did you get that knife?" She struggled with her words, her brain becoming sluggish._

" _I think you know. Did you really believe that after all you've done I would welcome you into my team? Your own Widows blade is still laced with poison."_

 _Natasha fell to her knees, fire racing through her veins, singeing her nerves, "No."_

 _The scenery shifted, and she was outside the panic room at Clints farmhouse. Steve was punching in the passcode. Natasha struggled to speak, the pain of the poison making every effort excruciating, "What are you doing?"_

" _Anyone aligned with you has no place on this team, especially when they turn out to be your own blood." The door slid open to reveal the Clint and his children. Steve raised the blade, and the children screamed in fear._

" _No! Steve be reasonable! I'm not a widow anymore!"_

 _Steve halted in his tracks and looked at her incredulously. Grabbing her by the arm he lifted her to her feet and she cried out in pain. He ripped the left shoulder of her shirt, revealing her bare shoulder. "What is that?"_

 _Natasha looked down to see the tattoo, freshly inked into her skin, "I've never seen it!" Steve sneered at her, "Am I supposed to fall for this? You failed your mission Romanoff. I knew your play from the start. Thanks for showing me who I can trust." Without another word Stev dropped her to the floor, and in quick strides approached Clint._

" _You brought this spy into our community, which makes you as much of a traitor as her." Without waiting for a reply, Steve slit his throat. There was a roaring in Natasha's ears that blocked out even the sound of her own scream. The poison had a firm grip on her throat, and she suffocated slowly, her eyes glued to Steve as he approached the other beds…"_

"NO!" Natasha sat bolt upright in her bed, her eyes wild and uncomprehending. Her head pounded, and her body ached. Looking around wildly, she suddenly realized that she was handcuffed to the bedframe, with no memory of how she got there. She yanked at the cuff in a panic, the metal digging into her skin. A middle aged woman came running into the room, a look of relief and then concern on her face.

"Oh Natalia, we weren't sure you would wake! Let me get Darya." The woman ran from the room. Natasha's breathing was sporadic, and she continued to pull on her wrist in distress. Her eyes travelled all over the room, but she recognized nothing. Soon the woman returned with another, her knee bandaged as she struggled on a crutch to her bedside. Natasha addressed the first woman through gritted teeth.

"Where am I and why am I being held here?" She yanked on the handcuff. "Who are you?"

The two women exchanged looks of concern, "Natalia, you can't remember?"

Natasha looked between them in a panic, "Remember what? What is going on?!"

"Anka, free her, there's no need for that. Look she's bleeding."

Anka pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked Natasha's wrist. Darya sat on the side of the bed gingerly and cautiously took Natasha's hand. Taking a cloth from the bedside, Darya began to tend to Natasha's now bleeding wrist. Natasha's breathing slowed slightly as she watched the woman tend her wounds. Anka put a hand on her shoulder, "Lay back and be calm Natalia, you've taken a hard blow to the head. We will explain it all."


	23. Chapter 23

"Young woman, won't you tell us your name? You are safe here." Vision spoke softly in Russian to the dark haired widow chained to the table in front of him. As the calmest and most distant from the Widow Program, Vision had been chosen by the team to interrogate the girl. He had been at it for hours with no result. The girl looked bored to tears.

"At least look at me so I know you can hear me," Vision said in frustration.

The girls eyes flickered up to Visions, "You know what I see? A weak wannabe who doesn't have the balls to do what's necessary to get information." She smirked at his shocked expression.

"You speak English? Why didn't you say so?"

The girl shrugged and leaned back in her chair, "Nobody asked."

Vision glanced back at the dark paned window, behind which he knew the team was watching, anxious for any information he could give.

"Would you excuse me?" The girl spat at the back of his head as he left.

Stepping into the other room Vision was met with a barrage of questions.

"What the hell?! She speaks English?!" Bucky paced in frustration.

"We are getting nothing here! We don't have time for this!" Steve exclaimed, "Rough her up a little!"

"Steve! She's just a child!" Wanda looked shocked.

"She isn't. She's a black widow, and she KNOWS where Natasha is she just refuses to say!"

A quiet voice at the back of the room made them all pause, "Let me go in."

Clint leaned in the shadows of the back wall, his arms crossed over his body, "I talked Natasha down when we brought her in. I can get this girl to talk."

"I don't know Clint, you're awfully close to this…" Vision looked Clint over critically. Clint walked forward, "You don't have a choice. You need answers and I can get them. Let me in that room."

Tony looked at Vision and nodded, "Let him try." Vision stepped aside, watching Clint warily. Taking a deep breath, Clint stepped into the room.

The girl looked up as he walked in, her eyes taking in everything about him instantly. She smiled, "They send you in here to be the muscle? Scare me a little?" She held up her chained hands, "You know if you like hitting girls now's your chance."

Clint shook his head, "I'm not going to hit you."

She sniffed, "I figured as much. You're no fun."

"Where did he chain you?" Clint's face was soft, compassionate.

"What?"

"Ivan. Where did he chain you when he beat you? When he 'trained' you as an assassin."

The girl's eyes went wide, then shut down, her expression stoic. She sat staring at him silently. He sat down on the edge of the table. "Natasha Romanoff is my friend. My best friend. I helped her escape the Red Room years ago, and she has told me stories about that place that haunt my nightmares. I'm betting you have your own stories. So tell me."

The girl sneered, "You want a story? Let me tell you one. Once upon a time there was a girl who was ripped from her family and raised to be a killer. It was hard but at least she had a community around her. Then one day SHIELD flew by on a plane and torched it all. The girl had nothing left but the lessons she was taught in the Red Room. Trust no one, belong nowhere, and do not expect kindness. The end."

Clint frowned, "There were no SHIELD operatives for destroying the Widow Program."

The girl rolled her eyes, "You'll forgive me if I consider your words a huge sack of bull shit won't you? Thanks you're a doll."

"I don't know what you have been through and I won't pretend to, but I know what Natasha suffered, and she pulled through it. Natasha changed, she became a woman I consider my family. There is hope for you."

The girl laughed, a short, painful sound, "There was never any hope for me."

Clint looked at her intently, "There is now. All you have to do is take it. Tell us what we need to know. Where is Natasha?"

Clint waited but the girl remained silent, her expression full of distrust and hatred. He stood, "Fine. Don't talk, but know this; You may hate SHIELD, but the Widows will never take you back now. You're a traitor. You better hope they never find you, because I know what they do to failed agents. So do you. This is your last chance at life girl. You don't talk, we won't kill you, but we'll put you right back where we found you, and they will do what Widows do."

He started to walk away, "Say hi to Ivan for me."

"The sink."

Clint turned to look at her, the girl's face had gone pale, "What?"

"The piping of the sink in the bathroom. He would chain me there." She noted his stricken expression and lifted her chin pridefully, "Better acoustics you know. So the other girls could hear me scream."

Clint swallowed hard and nodded, sitting back down on the table. "It was the radiator for Natasha. She was Natalia back then though. She had burns on her wrists for a long time after she came to us."

The girl stared at him, processing. He met her gaze, "What's your name?"

She peered up at him in distrust from underneath dark eyelashes, "If I tell you, will you help me?"

Clint's mind flashed back to a time when Natasha had asked him that same question in a similar circumstance. He told the girl what he had told Natasha back then, "I will. You answer my questions truthfully, and I'll defend you with my life."

She looked at him with suspicion, seeming to be judging his honesty. Finding no hint of a lie she sighed, "My name is Valeria, and I know where they are keeping Natalia."


	24. Chapter 24

Natalia gingerly touched the gash on her head, bandaged now. She felt cold all over. "I… I remember him." Darya and Anka watched silently, letting her sort her thoughts. She struggled, her face a picture of concentration, " I remember him killing Clint. And my niece."

"Clint was your brother _solnyshka_ , and a fine agent for Russia. His children were dear to you, no wonder you remember them." Darya patted her hand. Natalia gritted her teeth with the memory, and glanced over at Darya. "He did this to your knee?" Darya nodded solemnly. Natalia's fists clenched, "He destroyed the Widow program?"

"Viciously _Natashka_ , he set the whole facility on fire. Many Russian girls have died at his hands. This is why we sent you in to kill him. You are our last hope."

Natalia's eyebrows furrowed, and she hesitated, "And I… Was I compromised? I remember… I never thought he would.."

"You seduced him, and he fell hard my Natalia, as all men do. But Valeria blew your cover when she was captured. He got to you before we could warn you." Natalia gazed at them, processing this. She paused, "I remember you now. Darya. Anka. You raised me."

"Thats right."

"And Ivan."

The two women froze, "What do you remember of him?"

"He… taught me to fight. Trained me to be a widow." Natalia's voice trailed off, her thoughts returning to Steve. Her expression hardened, "What do I need to do?"

Darya and Anka looked at each other, "You need to lure him out until he is alone, disabling him long enough for us to draw blood, and then kill him."

Natalia nodded, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Feeling a pang in her side, she lifted her shirt and revealed a scabbed over stab wound. She stared at it remembering a detail that she had kept to herself. She had loved him. She remembered that vividly. She had trusted him and he had nearly killed her. He killed her brother, and her beloved niece and nephews. Rage and shame built in her until her face flushed with it. She stood, her eyes burning with hate and humiliation, how could she have been so careless? So stupid? There was no one left in the world now that she loved, and she was better for it. Her heated anger burned lower, eating up her emotion until it was gone, the only thing remaining was cold hatred. She looked at Darya and Anka, her eyes smoldering.

"Where have you put my weapons?"

The two women broke into nearly identical grins. Russia's prodigal daughter had returned.


	25. Chapter 25

**Ok guys I did some editing and reloaded all the chapters. I was having some character motivation and timeline problems. I reorganized it and it should be good to go! Here is a new chapter for those of you who have been waiting so patiently!**

Steve's forehead was wrinkled in stress as he sat massaging his temples. They were making progress now with Valeria on board. The young Widow had a serious attitude, refusing to talk to anyone but Clint. Even he didn't trust her enough to unchain her, so the process was slow. Clint sat in the interrogation room sketching out a map based on what Valeria could describe about the location of the other widows. Her answers to questions were coy, she didn't quite seem to be taking the situation very seriously. Everyone was on edge.

Steve's head was aching, but he attributed it to the stress. He was irritable, and longed for action, but until they had more information there was nothing to be done. His mind seemed to hum with stress, and it was making him anxious. Wanda sat down cautiously beside him, making him jump.

"Sorry," she said softly, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Steve looked up at her, her kind face full of compassion. He looked down, ashamed, "Wanda, I'm sorry for snapping at you on the quinjet. You did what needed to be done."

She smiled, "You weren't yourself. I understand."

Steve looked into the interrogation room, then put his head in his hands, "I haven't felt myself in what feels like years. I'm normally so calm under pressure but I can't think straight! My mind is just buzzing and I can't focus."

Wanda looked at him thoughtfully, "Can you hear her?"

Steve shook his head, "I don't know if she's just not thinking of me or if they figured out a way to block her. Her shield is down, I can feel that, but all I hear is my own stress. Our connection doesn't seem to be working."

Wanda frowned, "Would you mind if I listened? Just to Natasha?" Steve looked at her a moment and then shrugged. "Go ahead."

Wanda touched her fingertips to Steve's temple, her hand glowing red. Her eyes grew unfocused as she listened. Steve's mind was full of noise, and only part of it was his own. It was as though Steve's brain was tuned into a radio station that played nothing but static.

"Steve, you are hearing her but it sounds-" Suddenly, Steve and Wanda's mind erupted with emotion. Grief, hatred, and anger coursed through them both, accompanied by images that confused them. Steve watched from Natasha's perspective as he kissed her, and then stabbed her; he saw himself drawing a blade across Clint's throat. Steve stared blankly as the memory concluded, and felt the white hot heat of Natasha's hatred for him like a physical pain. With a gasp, Wanda withdrew, unable to bear it. Bucky and Tony came over quickly to see what was happening.

"What is it? Can you hear her?" Bucky looked at Tony with dread, "Are we too late?"

Slowly, Steve looked up at Wanda, who was breathing heavily, her expression horrified, "Wanda… What did we just see?"

Wanda swallowed, "Natasha's memories…"

Steve shook his head slowly, still battling the fierce emotion Natasha was leaking into him, "We both know they aren't real.! Clint is in the other room for God's sake!"

Bucky paled, "Her memories are wrong? Steve… That sounds-" He sat down in a chair beside Steve, "That sounds way too familiar…"

"Would someone please explain what's happening here?" Tony said impatiently. Wanda reached her hands out to both Bucky and Tony, and her fingers glowed crimson as she showed them what had transpired. Both men fell silent, looking at Steve solemnly.

Suddenly Wanda took Steve's hands, "Steve, you have to block her. Put up the shield, if she becomes aware of your connection now after they…." She trailed off, seeing his blank face, realizing that Steve still couldn't, wouldn't understand. "Steve… They've wiped her. Like James. The only memory she has of you is what they planted there."

Bucky stood so forcefully that he knocked over his chair.

Steve shook his head, his voice failing him. His eyes darted all around as though looking for a way to escape. Wanda squeezed his hand, "Steve, you need to put up your shield. She could seriously harm you if she discovers your connection, your location. She can probably feel your reaction right now. Steve are you listening?"

Steve suddenly looked at Bucky, "The Wakandans. How did they fix you?"

Bucky's fists were clenched, he shook his head, "This can't be the same thing. It was hardware in my brain combined with standard brainwashing. The Wakandans just figured out a way to get the hardware out without killing me. She hasn't been gone long enough for them to have put all that in her Steve, that took years. They must have outdated tech or they invented their own way..."

Steve stood and started to pace, his mind taken up with creating a plan, "They're spies Buck, not scientists like the Germans, so whatever they have, they stole, and I'm betting it's similar to what was used on you."

Bucky paled, "Then we need to find her yesterday, because very few survive the older versions of the chair."

Steve blinked, refusing to consider what Bucky's words meant, "Tony, get T'Challa on the phone. We are going to need him."

"What's your plan Cap?"

"I'm bringing her home."

Clint burst through the door to the interrogation room breathlessly, "I know where she is! They have shielding technology and that's why we haven't been able to-" Seeing all their somber faces he paused, "What did I miss?"

"I'll fill you in on the way there, Clint you're with me. Bucky, let's go"

Tony looked incensed, "You are going to need more than just Clint and Bucky, this is the Red Room you're dealing with!"

Steve shook his head, "I need everything prepared for her care when we get her back. Make it happen." Steve headed towards the door, but Tony stepped in his way.

"Well who's going to deal with the itsy bitsy spider in there?!" Tony exclaimed jerking his thumb towards Valeria.

"Just deal with her Tony!" He tried to push past but Tony was bristling, "I am not your slave that you can just order around. I don't think this is a good plan, the Red Room is serious, we need a strategy. You felt her, Nat hates you now! She won't just-" They never heard what Natasha wouldn't have done, because Steve hauled off and punched him straight in the jaw. Tony stumbled backwards, falling to the floor. When he came to a few seconds later, Steve and Bucky were gone, and Clint stared at Tony, horrified.

"I'll talk some sense into him," Clint said hastily.

Wanda caught his hand,"Get him to block out Natasha Clint, she can't have access to his mind!"

Clint nodded, "Tell Laura?" Wanda nodded, and Clint ran after Steve.

Catching up to him, Clint called out to his back, "What is happening to you?!"

Steve turned, "I'm done. Too many times I've let my "duty" and the high expectations people put on me keep me from following my heart. I'm getting her back, and no one is going to stand in my way. I'll do whatever it takes. Are you coming or not?"

Steve looked steadily at Clint, and Clint knew just by looking at him that he wasn't going to change his mind. Clint nodded grimly, "Let's bring her home."


	26. Chapter 26

_Sweat poured off of young Natalia Romanova's forehead, though she strained away from the source of the heat, the radiator to which she was handcuffed. The metal cuff grew hot, searing into her wrist as it grew hotter and hotter. Ivan Somodorov watched as he smoked, the smell of his cigarette making her eyes water. She stared at him, her face passive, and he stared back, calculating. Natalia blinked carefully, evenly, so that the water in her eyes would not spill over and give the impression of weakness. If a single tear fell, her life would become much more unpleasant than it already was. The heat of the metal cuff became so hot that a faint hiss could be heard as it bit into her skin. Ivan's faded blue eyes flickered from her face to her wrist, which was visibly burning. He looked back at her face, searching, waiting for a sign of weakness._

 _Natalia internalized the pain, "You've felt worse," she thought to herself. "It can always be worse."_

 _Seeming to be satisfied , Ivan sniffed, "That is enough for today_ _moya zvezda." My star. He tossed her the key to her handcuff, not bothering to attempt to unlock her himself and touch the hot metal. Natalia waited, internally screaming in pain, until he got up and left. He looked back one final time before he went out the door. She was watching him, her face still unreadable. He smiled then, and nodded, leaving her to unlock herself, a puff of smoke trailing behind him._

 _Her hand shook as she hastily struggled with the lock, her hands shaking. Finally she came free, her blistered wrists red and angry. She scrambled away from the radiator trembling with pain and exhaustion, evident only now that Ivan was gone. Tears streamed silently down her face but she brushed them away, leaning against the wall with her arms wrapped around her knees, taking comfort in the cool smooth stone against her blazing cheek. Closing her eyes she focused on breathing, trying to calm herself. A gentle hand on her back made her jump up with fright, frantically dashing away her tears. A man she had never seen before knelt beside her._

" _I'm sorry Natasha," said the man, "I didn't mean to frighten you."_

 _Natasha was braced for motion, ready to bolt or fight at the slightest move from the man. She looked up at him, he was so tall, and scowled, "That isn't my name. I'm Natalia."_

 _The man looked pained, but he nodded, "I'm sorry. Natalia, do you know me?" He spoke gently, as though he might scare her just by the tone of his voice. She frowned, still in pain and highly suspicious, "Did Ivan send you? I'm not falling for his nice guy trick, not again. I'm better than that." She backed away, her burned wrist held gingerly at her side, her face the picture of distrust._

 _The man's blue eyes took in everything about her, and they burned with compassion. "Ivan didn't send me. Natash- Natalia, I need to you to know something-"_

" _Wait." Natasha's eyes grew wide, "I think I do know you." Her face flashed confusion. Conflicting emotions warred in her, frustrating her. She couldn't remember why, but she felt certain he was an enemy._

" _Get away from me," the young girl said, her voice low. The man put his hands up before him, "I'm not here to hurt you."_

 _Natasha snarled and held up her burned wrist, " No. You're here to train me, right? That's what HE always says. I am Natalia Romanova, and I am the pride of Mother Russia. I pass every test they throw at me, and I sure as Hell am not about to fail this one." A deep hatred bubbled up inside her then, surprising her with its intensity. Her breathing spiked, and she lunged…_

Natasha's eyes flashed open. She lay on a cheap mattress in a trashy New York City motel. She had been tracking the Avengers team in the hopes of finding Rogers and making him pay for his crimes against her and against Russia. The motel was seedy, but had a perfect view of Avengers tower. She sat up with a frown. Every time she closed her eyes to sleep he haunted her dreams. He always appeared concerned for her, and it always ended with a sudden flash of rage. She shuddered slightly as she thought of Ivan, that had been real, hadn't it? She looked at her wrist, but no scar was to be found, no matter how closely she looked. It had been so vivid, she could almost smell the cigarettes, the singed skin, but there was no evidence, no scar. She frowned, it was still difficult for her to sort out her memories. She rubbed her head, she must have hit it extremely hard.

She shook her head to clear it. It was just a dream, one of many. But the dream nagged at her, and the man, Steve Rogers she knew now, didn't behave in the way she expected. She thought about when he had kissed her, not for the first time. How had her own target made her love him? How had she slipped so badly? She could practically feel him pressing his lips to hers, how strong he was, and how peaceful she had been. She stood stiffly, her battered body rebelling. These thoughts were traitorous. How could she forget what happened next? She lifted her shirt and saw the evidence once more, the remaining wound, now mostly healed, in her side from where he had stabbed her through. Her only remaining family, dead, slaughtered at his hand. He was good. She had made a mistake, but she would rectify it and no one would know.

She checked her weapons, securing them on her person. There were so many details that she didn't understand, the blow she had taken to her head still buried much of her understanding. But she knew what she needed to know. Taking out one of her throwing knives she pitched it into the wall in frustration. It buried itself deep into the wood. However he had done it, she would make him pay, and no one would learn of her embarrassing and nearly fatal mistake. Love was for children.


	27. Chapter 27

Tony sat at his computer, his temper flaring. Since Steve had left they had discovered where Natasha had been taken with the reluctant help of Russia's junior spy. Vision, Wanda, and Sam had headed out to look into it, and Tony had drawn the short straw, staying back with their young charge. He was not pleased.

"Hellooo I am getting seriously thirsty in here! Got any water? Or Vodka? Vodka would be better."

Tony gritted his teeth, she hadn't stopped talking for hours. Before leaving, Wanda had placed her in a more comfortable containment cell where she would wait while they made sure her intel was truthful. Wanda's power was the safest way to transport her, freezing her until the door was safely locked. She was young, but no one dared underestimate her. Tony took a deep breath and got up, filling two glasses with water.

"Sorry kid, fresh outta Vodka." He placed the water glass on a revolving door and turned it so that she could reach it through the thick glass.

She took a sip and grimaced, "How disappointing."

Tony sat down in a chair just outside the glass walls, studying her with resigned curiosity. She was putting on a tough exterior, but Tony could see the signs of stress. Her face appeared calm despite tensed muscles, the faint circles under her eyes suggesting that she hadn't slept. Sensing his evaluation, Valeria stood and mockingly turned in a slow circle.

"How do you like the view?"

"You look like you could use a sandwich."

Valeria frowned despite herself. Tony regarded her a moment more, kicking his chair back onto two legs. Valeria met his gaze stoically. Finally Tony sat forward.

"Why did you decide to help us? And now that you are on our side, would it kill you to just chill on the attitude a bit?"

Valeria smirked, "I think you like my attitude."

"You remind me of myself at your age actually. I was an asshole." Tony stood up and sighed, "Look, I was serious about the sandwich. I'm gonna make one. What do you want?"

Valeria looked surprised, "Seriously? You're feeding me?"

Tony looked at her incredulously, "What did you think we would do? Starve you? You're helping us. Geez kid lighten up, you're safe. Honest."

When Valeria only stared at him Tony sighed once more and shrugged, "PB&J it is then. Russians man…" Valeria watched as he turned and left the room, heading towards the kitchen. Valeria shook her head, these Americans were much different than she had expected. A sudden motion on the ceiling outside her cell made Valeria jump. Dropping as if out of nowhere, a slight figure landed in the shadows of the room. As she straightened, the woman came into the light, and Valeria's stomach sank at the sight of her.

Exhaling slowly she whispered under her breath as she pressed her hands to the glass, "What did they do to you?" Valeria's eyes travelled up and down the legend that was Natalia Romanova, taking in her bruises, her too thin form and sallow skin.

Natasha stepped closer, her green eyes flashing, "You must be Valeria, widow trainee captured by the Avengers on her first mission? Oh well done."

Valeria stood, her face flushed, and pulled aside her shirt to reveal her Widow's tattoo. "I'm no trainee. They graduated me early."

Natasha regarded her stonily, making Valeria uneasy. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.

"What have you told them?" Natasha's voice was deadly quiet.

"Nothing," Valeria said a little too quickly, her eyes snapping up. Natasha gritted her teeth, slamming a fist into the glass of the cell, "Tell me what you told them and MAYBE I won't send you back for punishment." Valeria's chin shot up in defiance, "What, like they did to you? What did you do to earn that beating?"

Natasha frowned, suddenly noticing her own reflection in the glass. Steve Rogers was responsible for her current physical state, wasn't he? She shook her head, confused. A sudden pulse of pain shot through her head, and she grimaced despite herself, stepping away from Valeria for a moment to recover herself. Valeria watched her, suddenly quiet.

"Your friend told me about Ivan and the radiator," Valeria said quietly, "Seriously harsh. You ever think maybe… We're on the wrong side?"

Natasha's head shot up, "What?" Her head was pounding, and she squinted her eyes to try to ease it. With a sudden surge of frustration, Natasha was at the keypad to Valeria's cell, punching in the numbers to open the door. With a quiet hiss, an opening appeared in the glass, and Natasha was through it and had seized Valeria by the arm before she knew what had happened.

"You just answer my questions, no side comments, no sass. Tell me what I need to know." Natasha's grip was painfully tight, but Valeria knew that was the least of her worries. If natasha thought she was no longer valuable to her, she knew what the protocol was.

"I told them where Darya and Anka took you! They figured out about the shield tech that hides it. Three of them are on their way there looking for you."

"Me? Why me?" Natasha squeezed harder, making Valeria yelp.

"Captains orders!"

Natasha's face darkened. It wasn't enough to kill off her family, but he had to hunt her down like an animal too. Well, at least he was intelligent. She looked down at Valeria, eyes hard.

"This is what you are going to do. You are going to stay in this cell and redeem yourself." Natasha pinned a tiny recording device to the hem of her shirt. "Get them to talk. If you cannot uncover anything useful, or you lie to me, I will be back here before you can blink and I'll turn you over to Anka. She'll deal with you in the traditional way. Do you understand?"

Valeria paled noticeably and nodded. Natasha watched her face for a moment. Satisfied, she tossed Valeria backward into the cell and closed the door. Stumbling to her feet, Valeria called out to her back, "Wait!"

Natasha turned to look at her, the shadows of the dim lighting making her already hollow face look even more dramatic.

"How did you know the code to my cell? And how to find me in the Avengers tower? It's huge." Valeria watched the war suddenly waging across Natasha's face thoughtfully. She rubbed her forehead then looked at Valeria, "I don't know."

"Alright kid, get ready for the best PB&J you've ever-" Tony stopped dead in his tracks. Natasha tensed, her head pulsing, didn't she know this man?

"Natasha? My God, what did they do to you?"

Natasha frowned, "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" She quickly crouched low and swung her leg behind Tony's knees. He tripped, caught off guard, landing hard on his back. Like lightning Natasha drove her knee into his chest, a knife at his throat. "Where is Steve Rogers?"

"Take it easy Natasha, we're your friends."

Natasha pressed the knife into the skin of his neck, drawing a thin line of blood, "That is NOT my name. Answer my question."

"He's out looking for you," Tony's watch suddenly enveloped his hand and he twisted from underneath Natasha, knocking the knife from her grip and leaping to his feet. He put his hands out before him in a gesture of peace, "Nat, they've messed with your memory. Things aren't as they seem. Let us help you. Steve didn't do those things to you. Your red room buddies did."

Another pulse of pain shot through Natasha's head, darkening her vision momentarily. She lunged at Tony, but he dodged out of her way, locking her wrist in his armoured hand and pinning her arms to her sides.

"LOOK, take it easy, you know me!" Tony looked at her more closely now, the bruises down her neck and shoulders making him grimace, her body much thinner than it should have been. He met her eyes, "Nat, why aren't you healing?" She seemed to see him for a moment, her expression confused, but another pulse of pain made her squeeze her eyes shut. Tony watched her in concern, but Natasha suddenly kicked him in the groin hard. A strangled whimper was all Tony could manage as he crumpled to the floor, and his grip on her loosened. Natasha wrenched free, and with a final warning look at Valeria, disappeared into the shadows from which she had come.


	28. Chapter 28

**Thanks for the support guys! I am so glad you are enjoying this story, I know I am! Here's another chapter for you!**

Natasha ran until she was well away from the Avengers tower, ducking into an alley only when the pounding in her head grew unbearable. She crouched, her back against the brick building, her head in her hands as it pulsed and throbbed.

" _Your friend told me about Ivan and the radiator… You ever think we're on the wrong side?"_

" _Natasha, why aren't you healing?"_

Natasha massaged her temples, but her head kept pounding. What was happening to her? She leaned her head back against the wall, struggling to overcome the pain and sort through her thoughts. She looked at her wrists, smooth and free from marking. There was no way her memories of Ivan could be real. If they were, she would have scars. _Why aren't you healing?_ Natasha frowned. Had she been a quick healer before her head injury? Why would an Avenger care if she was healing? She ran her fingers along the back of her neck and felt the scabs there. How had she gotten those? Anka and Darya had said she received a blow to the head, but blunt force wouldn't have cut her up like this. A pulse of pain brought her head back to her hands. Very real memories of Steve kissing her brought tears to her eyes. His gentleness, his kindness overwhelming her, distracting her from his true purpose.

She stood suddenly, her head clearing slightly. She slammed her fist into the wall angrily, a new realization dawning on her. She still loved him. He still had that power over her. The thought enraged her. How could he be doing this to her? She kicked the dumpster in front of her, and an old mirror fell off the top of the pile of trash and shattered at her feet. She looked down into her broken reflection and watched as her expression went from pained and angry to resolved. He couldn't live. Even if he hadn't killed her brother, her niece and nephews, he would still have to die. She couldn't do her job if she was compromised. It had to stop. However he had done it, she would end it. Two could play at this game, and she had had a lifetime of training to do just that.

Natasha's head had eased. She turned to look out of the alleyway, the Avengers tower stretching to the sky in the distance. It was getting dark. She made her way deftly through alleys and back roads until she came upon another motel. She paid for a room in cash, then settled in, throwing her backpack on the chair. Steve Rogers wanted to find her, and she would give him exactly what he was looking for. But first, she needed a few hours sleep. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion. She wasn't herself, she could feel it. She shouldn't need this much sleep. _Just an hour or two_ , she thought to herself, and laid her head on the pillow, falling instantly asleep.

* * *

"Dang it!" Steve opened his eyes, frustrated. "Everytime I get close to her in her dreams she suddenly 'remembers' that she hates me and that's it!" Steve paced angrily, his eyes roaming over the Barton Ranch, empty now, remembering all that Natasha had been through. Almost as soon as they had set out for the "Widows Lair," as Tony had begun to call it, Steve felt Natasha leaving it. Clint had been able to convince Steve not to use their connection unless she was asleep, reminding Steve what she had done to Vision in their training, "He was completely incapacitated Steve, and she was holding back. She can literally cause you pain just by thinking about it. You can't take that risk, for her sake."

Steve had reluctantly agreed. They had been tracking Natasha via Steve's connection, but only once Steve was certain she was sleeping. Steve, Clint and Bucky had gotten no closer to bringing her in than when they started. Steve was having trouble connecting with her to track her without opening his mind to her while she was awake. Asleep he only got a vague impression of where she was. They had returned to Clint's farmhouse in an effort to retrace their steps.

Clint kicked a rock, "So I guess it's safe to say that if she sees you in person, there won't be a conversation."

Bucky was practically pulling his hair out in frustration."Of course not, this is what I have been saying all along. Take it from someone who knows! Her reality is entirely changed, you won't "love her' out of this one!"

Steve scowled at Bucky, about to respond when his phone lit up, it was Tony. Steve waved Bucky off and answered.

"Tony. What's happened?"

"We have a problem, and it's more than just you and your brand new temper. My jaw still hurts by the way. When this is all over I owe you one."

"Tony get to the point."

"Natasha was here." Steve froze, taking the phone from his ear and put it on speaker for the others.

"How did she get in?" Steve's voice was tense.

"That's what I want to know. If they wiped her, how does she still remember how to get in here? Their technology cannot be so honed that they can pick and choose memories. Steve, I think she's remembering certain things."

Steve sat down on a log, exhaling and rubbing his face. Tony continued, "There's more. I spoke with her, granted she was holding a knife to my throat but still. She doesn't look good. She's been…" he hesitated, "mistreated. And she's not healing at her usual super speed."

Steve clenched his jaw listening, "Ok. Why did she break in? What did she want?"

"She was looking for you Steve. She didn't seem too fond of you either."

"I'm hunting her and she's hunting me." Steve rubbed his temples, "Ok. New plan. Send a team to the Widows Lair, I still want the people responsible. I'll send Clint back to you to watch over Valeria. Maybe he can get more information from her." Steve glanced at Clint, who nodded grimly. "Bucky and I will lure her in. She's hunting me, I'll make myself easy to find."

"Ok Cap. Let's hope this works."

"Thanks Tony. And.. I'm sorry."

"Whatever, I still owe you one." The phone cut off with a click.

The three men looked at each other in silence. Finally Steve broke it, "I've never been bait before. Should be fun."

Bucky shook his head, "That is not a good idea. You can't be the first person she sees when she gets here."

Steve shrugged, "I'll do what I have to do to get her back."

"Ok let me once again break this down for you," Bucky began in exasperation, "She hates you Steve- No don't get all pissy, it's true. She will attack you on sight and she must have a plan to bring you down because let's face it, Natasha always has a plan. You can't confront her, we don't know what murderous plan she has in place. That leaves me. I will go. I volunteer! Just please God, let's finish this. Let's cuff the woman and bring her in!"

"No cuffs!" Steve burst out. The other two looked at him strangely. He frowned, defensive, "I see her memories, she has had bad experiences…"

"She doesn't remember them! She's a new Widow! Until we capture her and fix her scrambled brain, she is not herself, only a body will lethal killing powers that the Red Room is controlling. Steve, let me bring her down." Clint raised an eyebrow, "You would be an idiot to underestimate her. That would be a mistake. A hilarious and amusing mistake, but a mistake."

Bucky gave him a withering look, "I've gone up against the Widow before and she came away with a bullet hole through her stomach." Steve tensed but Clint cut him off, "The moral of the story being that you shot her through the middle and _she still got away._ Today we need to do it without hurting her!"

"Enough! I can't listen to you two any more!" Steve stood, his fists clenched, pacing the farmhouse yard. "She's somewhere in the city, in a motel. We have time to think this through." An incoming call lit Steve's cell a second time. He glanced down at it quickly, then answered, "T'Challa. Thank you for coming on board. I'm putting you on speaker." Steve held out the phone for the other two to hear and they gathered together around it. "Go ahead T'Challa."

"Captain, I am sorry to hear of what has become of Ms. Romanoff. I will do anything in my power to help her, and you, to right this wrong. I have brought Dr. Nanali Hytta with me, you remember her I am sure."

"Of course I do, she saved Nat's life after what Ross did to her."

"She also has done extensive studies on your connection, and has continued to do so via the data Natasha gave her while she was here in Wakanda. She has something to tell you that I think you will want to hear."

"Put her on." T'Challa handed the phone to Nanali.

"Hello Captain."

"Doctor, thank you for getting involved in this. I'm very grateful."

"Of course captain, Natasha and I grew to be good friends. I am afraid her luck in life isn't so good. But I have news that may make a difference."

Steve shifted anxiously, "Please, what is it?"

"Her DNA is not what we thought."

A sudden rush of anger and fear that was not his own made Steve lose his breath. Looking down at his necklace he suddenly realized with horror that he had forgotten to turn his shield back on.

 _Natasha don't be frightened, this can all be explained._

 _Get out of my head!_

Steve winced as the words sliced through him, her terror and confusion soaking every syllable.

 _I'm sorry Natasha, I love you. I will fix this._ Steve quickly put his shield up.

"Steve? Steve are you ok?" Bucky was shaking him by the shoulder, and Clint had taken the phone from his hand. Steve shook himself, "I left my shield down. She heard me thinking about her. She's panicking." Bucky and Clint stared at him for a moment, grave. Steve grabbed at the phone, Nanali? Nanali I missed that last bit, what have you discovered?"

Nanali spoke in a rush, "Natasha's enhancements are directly tied to you captain, and her proximity to you. When you are not close to her she loses the gift, at least, that is my theory."

"Are you saying that just by being close to her, I heal her?"

"Not quite, being close to her helps her own enhancement to work better, helps her to heal herself."

Steve breathed out slowly, then spoke into the phone, "Is there a chance that by being close to her I could help her mind to heal?"

Nanali was quiet for a moment, "It is possible, but I am uncertain how long it would take. She is dangerous Captain."

"Thank you Doctor, for all your work here."

"Of course Captain. Good Luck."

Steve looked at Bucky, fire in his eyes, "We're doing this my way. I'm the bait."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29 just for you! Enjoy!**

"Slow down _solnyshka_ I can hardly understand you! What has happened?" Darya caught Anka's eye pointedly, motioning her over. She heard Natasha swallow and exhale purposefully before trying again. Darya pressed the phone harder against her ear in order to catch every word.

"I'm compromised. Rogers has somehow gotten into my head. I heard him talking about my DNA…I thought it was a dream but I could still hear him when I woke! I'm either being spied on in my own head, or I am losing my mind. Either way, I cannot complete this mission. Not without more information."

Darya's eyes were wide, "You can hear him in your head? Truly? Or you just remember him?"

Natasha's voice was hard, "Both. But the memories I have conflict with reality, and I only heard him in my sleep up until today. He spoke to me… I- I know his location. I don't know how I know but I do."

Darya's face darkened. She composed herself before she continued, "I wondered if the Avengers had experimented on you while you were with them. It appears they did. Natalia, I need you to listen to me. Listen very closely. Getting that sample has become more important than ever. You must find him and stab him with the Widows blade. Do NOT shoot him, you understand? It could contaminate his blood and we need it clean."

"But I-"

"NO. Natalia you must. You have an advantage now, use their own tool against them. You know where he is, if he's in your head, then you're in his. Make him pay for what he has done. Kill him, and be free of his influence forever."

There was silence over the other end of the phone. Darya prompted her, "What is your mission?"

"Kill Steve Rogers and bring back samples of his blood."

"You are a Black Widow, merciless and unstoppable. Show him what you are made of. Use the Widows blade, just as he did to you."

"Yes Darya." Natasha hesitated, "I think you may be compromised as well, I planted a bug on Valeria, and the other Avengers are on the move. If he has been in my head then he knows your location."

"We will move at once. We will find you when it is done. We will run some tests on you and figure it all out. But do this first."

Natasha hung up the phone, tossing it into the trash. Her eyes wandered the room from the ground where she sat against the wall. It looked like a tornado had hit it. The small desk was upended, a broken chair beside it on the ground. Papers were strewn everywhere, the curtains ripped from the window. Natasha held her hand out in front of her and watched as it trembled. "Too much, this is just too much," she mumbled to herself, curling her fingers into a fist. She pressed her fists into her temples, as though the pressure on her head would help her get her facts straight. She was horribly confused, two alternate realities mixing and swirling in her mind. Steve wanted her dead, killed her brother. Did she have a brother? She strained for any childhood memories of him, but found none. Steve loved her, had access to her mind, but wasn't controlling her. She shook her head, crimson curls flying about her face. She loved him, somehow she knew she did, no matter how unlikely. Which was going to make her mission that much harder. There was only one constant. She remembered Darya, remembered her childhood. Darya was a constant presence. Some part of her mind nagged at her, trying to remember something _about_ Darya's presence in her childhood, but Natasha pushed it away. She stood and gathered her minimal belongings. She had to trust someone, or she would lose her mind. Darya was the only solid memory she had that made sense. She clung to her words like an anchor, afraid that her treacherous mind would sweep her away into insanity.

She slung her backpack onto her back, glancing in the mirror as she did. She pulled her shirt away from her shoulder, revealing her tattoo. Her eyes traced the hourglass design, her expression resolved.

"You are Natalia Romanova, merciless and unstoppable. It's time to redeem yourself."

* * *

"I just don't feel right about this, leaving Steve on his own." Bucky clenched the arms of his seat on the quinjet.

Clint looked grim, "It will take her some time to reach the farm, and we will need the jet. As soon as we arrive at the tower you can gas up and turn right back around. Should be seamless."

Bucky glowered out the window, "That's what they always say."

Tony's voice crackled in Clint's earpiece, "Are you here yet?! This kid is driving me up the wall. Also, Wanda, Vision, and Sam arrived at the location she provided. They found an old German mind control chair thing, but no one was home. So the kid didn't lie, but her information was useless."

"We will be arriving in 30, and I will speak to her myself."

* * *

Darya sat looking at Anka grimly, as she hung up the phone, "Change of plans. Natalia is compromised, you were right about her connection with Rogers. It was more than it seemed."

Anka raked her fingernails through her hair in frustration, "What will we do? Ivan wants Natalia! And we need Rogers for the next phase!"

"She's a capitalist tool now! A scientific mutt. We cannot bring her back to the base, not with Rogers and who know what else in her head!"

Darya looked exasperated, wincing as she touched her broken knee, "It's risky, but she may still get us what we need. She doesn't trust him, and she trusts me. When she stabs him we will need to steal Rogers and bring him back to base before the poison gets too far. We will have an ongoing supply of super soldier serum if we can keep him alive. Natalia unfortunately is a liability at this point, we don't know if it's just Rogers in her head. She cannot be allowed to live, we don't have the technology to understand what they have done to her, and we don't have the time. She could bring the whole Avengers team down on our new location! She will have to die."

Anka shook her head sadly, "Such a waste."

Darya frowned, "I had high hopes for her. She had so much promise. We may have to keep Rogers alive, but he will regret ever getting involved with her, I'll make sure of that. When out army is ready, Barton and his family will die for real this time. Natalia will be avenged."

Darya looked up, shaking off her melancholy, "Anka help me up. The sooner we have Rogers the sooner I can heal. Bring him to the base, and be sure Natalia does not see another day.


	30. Chapter 30

**Sorry it's been so long! Here's a longer chapter to make up for it! I can't wait to hear what you think!**

Steve sat quietly on the front steps of the Bartons home, his eyes staring unfocused at the ground, listening. He had made himself visible on purpose, certain that Natasha would arrive as quickly as possible, unable to bear even a second more of someone controlling her than was strictly necessary. And that was how she viewed him, he could feel it; an outside unwelcome force that had made itself a home in her head. He checked his necklace briefly, making sure his shield was still on. He could hear her thoughts as she approached, and for a moment, he was chilled. Her hatred for him had sunk into the marrow of her bones, it pushed her forward, his death the only barrier standing between her grief and her freedom. He had killed her family, he realized. Whether it was true or not, it was the reality she lived in. Steve took a deep breath to ease his nerves, he would have to remain calm if his plan was going to work. He resigned himself to wait for her arrival. All he needed was time near her, and maybe just maybe, she would begin to heal and come through her haze.

Steve knew the moment when Natasha saw him, her emotions hit him like a right hook. He felt her sizing him up, deciding what her plan would be. He looked around carefully, without giving away that he knew she was near, but could neither see nor hear any sign of her. She was every inch the super spy she was raised to be. He focused on her, their connection showing him her location. She was in the woods beyond the farmhouse. Good. That was where he needed her to be. His eyes swept the sky for Bucky's quinjet, he would need all the help he could get if he was going to capture Natasha without hurting her. He needed time for their connection to begin to heal her, and he had no idea just how much time that could take. He had to capture her. He felt Natasha shift to see him better, and felt a fresh wave of hatred roll over her. He shook his head, this wasn't going to be easy.

 _Hello Rogers._

Steve's head snapped up in shock. Natasha was speaking to him using their connection.

 _I know that you can hear me, and that any plan I make you will know ahead of time. I want to talk._

Steve hesitated, listening to her emotions. In place of the hatred, he now heard curiosity, doubt, and uncertainty. Had their connection worked so quickly? He paused only briefly before turning off his shield.

 _Natasha?_

He felt her stiffen in a brief moment of panic, but she smoothed it away.

 _Steve._ She paused, hesitating. _I have questions._

Hope blossomed in Steve's chest, _Ok. Let's talk._

Steve could almost feel her shake her head, _Not there. I want you where I can see you clearly. Come to the edge of the trees._

 _How do I know you won't suddenly change your mind and just shoot me?_

 _You don't._

Steve grimaced, but stood and walked slowly toward the treeline, wary of any sudden motion or emotion coming from Natasha. When he had entered the forest a ways he heard her again.

 _Stop, don't come any closer._

Steve peered through the trees but still couldn't see her, his sense of her telling him only that she was nearby. He reached out to her with his words, _What did you want to ask me?_ She paused before responding.

 _Have you ever watched your family murdered before your eyes?_

Steve was filled with dread, this had been a mistake. He moved to go back the way he came but a sudden flood of anguish made him clutch his chest and fall to his knees.

 _It feels like this._

Natasha waited a moment, observing him as he struggled before she continued.

 _Have you ever had your home, your mentors, your friends, all go up in flames?_

Images of the Red Room set ablaze, and all its inhabitants locked inside as it burned flashed before Steve's eyes. He redoubled, the pain of it clouding his mind, consuming him. He reached desperately for his shield, and shut it off.

"I have."

Steve looked up from where he crouched to see Natasha, fury written all over her face. She caught him squarely in the jaw with a right hook, followed by a vicious kick to his face. Steve fell hard on his back, his nose and lip bleeding profusely. She was on him in a moment, her knee digging into his chest, her hands at his throat.

Steve looked into her eyes and saw their hardness. They glinted in the daylight, impenetrable where once they had been open for him. He struggled to breathe as she cut off his air, slowly suffocating him.

"Fight," she hissed at him, "Fight and show me what you're made of." Steve just continued to gaze at her, taking in her gaunt face, the rings under her eyes and the sallow color of her skin. Her body told the truth even when she couldn't, she had been horribly treated. Steve's vision began to blur for lack of oxygen, but Natasha released him, and he quickly rolled to his side, gasping. Natasha kicked him hard in the stomach.

"How did you do it?"

Steve coughed and wheezed, "Do what?"

She leaned in close to his face, her voice low as if afraid she would be overheard, "How did you make me fall for you? How do you still have a hold on me now?"

Steve met her eyes and shook his head, "Natasha, no one can make you do anything you don't want to do."

Natasha grabbed the collar of his shirt, leaning in angrily, "Stop evading the question. How did you do it?"

Steve simply looked at her with a sad smile and shrugged, "I fell for you first."

Natasha stared at him, multiple emotions warring in her, flickering one after another across her face. She stood and stepped quickly away from him, her hands pressed to her temples. Her head was pulsing, she felt so many contradictory emotions, her memories warring and conflicting with each other like a tornado tearing through her mind. Steve could feel her confusion and anger building and knew that his time was running out. He sat up cautiously, never taking his eyes off her. He desperately needed more time. He felt a pang of guilt for what he was about to do, but shoved it away. Reaching out quickly, Steve seized an all but invisible wire that he and Clint had rigged before he left, and an electrified net fell heavily from the trees above. Natasha's eyes snapped up as it came and she dove away from it, managing to clear her upper body from the trap, but the net tangled around her legs, the electricity jolting up her body as she came crashing to the ground. Her back arched and her limbs shook until Steve flipped a switch on a remote in his hand that turned it off. Natasha lay there immobile and unconscious, blood trickling down her cheek from where her head had struck the ground. Steve rushed to her side and cleared the net from around her legs, cradling her in his arms. "I'm so sorry Nat. I'm so sorry." He pressed her close, willing the serum in their bodies to reconnect, to heal her mind and end their separation. He turned off his shield and listened, but her mind was blank, even as she began to stir.

 _I love you Natasha. I'm sorry for everything. I'm going to make this right._

 _Steve?_

Natasha's voice in his head startled him, and he pulled away to look at her. Her green eyes were open and steadily boring into his own. Natasha glanced over at the net, and then back at him. Her arm slid about his waist as she watched him. Steve didn't recognize her emotions until it was too late. A feeling of betrayal surged through him from her, but also a sense of relief. She knew the truth now.

 _Stop. Lying._

With what seemed to Steve like one twitch of her hand, Natasha sunk a blade deep into Steve's shoulder. Steve blanched, staring wide eyed at the blade, now hilt deep in his own skin. Natasha struggled free from his embrace, looking at him incredulously. "You're even more psychotic than I thought! You convince me you love me, attack me, then free me and hold me like you love me again? Make up your goddamn mind!"

"Natasha wait-"

"No enough. No more words."

"Wh-what are you doing?" Steve asked, his words slightly slurring. He struggled to sit up but found he couldn't. Natasha refused to look at him, "My mission." She applied the tourniquet to his arm none too gently and prepared to take his blood.

As fire started racing through his veins Steve's breathing started to spike, and he realized just how short his time was. His limbs were incredibly heavy, and he struggled against the weight. Using all his willpower Steve wrenched his uninjured arm up and seized Natasha's wrist.

"Nat, this isn't who you are anymore." Natasha tried brush him off but Steve held on for dear life. "You know I'm telling the truth." He placed her palm against his cheek and tried to hold it there, but she slapped him soundly in the face in response, leaping to her feet out of his reach, her eyes wild.

Steve smarted, but pressed on, "You love me. You told me so yourself. Why would I lie at this point? I know the blade is poisoned, I know I can't survive it." Steve watched as Natasha frowned and rubbed her forehead. She shook her head slightly as if trying to clear it, her expression puzzled. He pressed on, "Think about it Natasha, you haven't felt yourself since you woke up from your injury have you? It hasn't been quite right. Natasha, look at me, please." Natasha finally glanced over at him, meeting his eyes and was arrested by something in his face. Steve saw her hesitation and smiled in spite of the pain. His voice belied the effort it was taking him to remain conscious, "Nat, when you overcome this, and I know you will, I want you to do something for me."

"What?" Natasha asked in spite of herself. Steve struggled for air, the poison taking his lungs. He shuddered, and Natasha suddenly felt sick to her stomach, dread pouring through her like a nauseating medicine.

"Forgive yourself." And just like that, the world clicked back into place.

Natasha blinked, "Steve?" His eyes were open, blue and unseeing. She stood quickly, staring down at him in horror, the noise of her mind suddenly muted. As if in slow motion, and without knowing why she did it, she reached out and pulled the knife from Steve's shoulder. She stared at him, as if expecting for him to wake now that she had removed it. She lifted the knife sluggishly before her own eyes, the blade red now instead of silver. The world was in half speed, each rapid breath seemed to take three full seconds. Her eyes moved from her blade to Steve's chest, now bleeding freely, but the information she already knew refused to compute. A sound behind her registered but she did not turn, not even when the impact hit her shoulder blade. It threw her forward over Steve's body, Natasha had only blinked once before she found herself face to face with him, her hands slipping in his blood, pressed by gravity to his chest. Some part of her mind informed her, _You've been shot._ Out of habit, she turned her head to locate the shooter. Standing above her, his face burning like an avenging angel, stood Bucky Barnes. She sighed in relief, it would be over soon. She let her eyes fall from Bucky to her hands, sticky with blood, and felt his gaze follow hers. Meeting his eyes she saw him tremble with rage, his weapon pointed point blank at her chest. Natasha turned further to face him, to make it easier. Bucky looked at Steve, his gun staying with her. He spoke but Natasha couldn't make out his words, she simply stared at Bucky, waiting for him to end her pain. He gazed back at her, his finger only a hair's breadth from releasing the trigger. Natasha closed her eyes, finding Steve's hand and clutching it.

 _Any moment now, and we will be together._

But the silence dragged on, and Natasha trembled in expectation of the impact. Tears sprung into her eyes in her desperation and she screamed at Bucky, "Do it!" She looked up at him fiercely, "Bucky do it!"

Bucky's expression had changed to one of realization and grief, his dark eyes met her green ones, connecting with her on a deeper level. He looked pained.

"You're back aren't you? He got to you."

Natasha stared back unblinking, "Please. Please end this."

Bucky hesitated, gritting his teeth against his grief, then shook his head, lowering his weapon, "I was supposed to be here to help. I came as fast as I could but you…" He looked at her, his grief and anger warring with something stronger. Anguished lined Natasha's face as she looked at Bucky.

"Please," she said with effort, "Just do it. I know you want to. I deserve it."

Bucky raised his weapon again, pointing it at her and she met his gaze levelly. She nodded. She saw his eyes flicker to Steve and then back to her, his hands shaking with rage. With a roar, Bucky pulled the trigger, emptying his magazine into the tree behind her. Natasha shook with adrenaline, her fingers wrapped tightly in Steves, her eyes shut. When she opened them, Bucky was staring solemnly at her,

"That's not what he would have wanted."

Natasha leapt at Bucky, desperately trying to provoke him. But Bucky just blocked her attacks until he caught her by the arms and flung her to the ground.

"If it were up to me I would kill you for what you did. But I did terrible things under mind control, and Steve spared me. He wouldn't want this. Stay down." Bucky paced back and forth, looking from Natasha to Steve.

Her tears came then, uncontrollable and ugly. She stumbled back to Steve and curled herself into his side. Her fingers found his face, and she held it in her hands, "Steve please," she choked, "Please don't leave me. Please don't make me survive this without you."

Bucky knelt beside his friend, brushing her aside and checking quickly for a pulse. "What did you do to him?"

Natasha didn't look at him as she answered, "I stabbed him," she choked on her grief as the full realization of what she had done hit her, "Oh God, I stabbed him with a widows blade!"

Bucky peeled her off of Steve and seized her by the shoulders, "Poison? What kind? Why poison him when you could have just shot him?" Natasha shuddered and Bucky gave her a shake, "Answer me! It could be important."

Natasha paused, remembering, sorting through the wreckage of the memories that had been planted versus those that were real.. Her eyes widened, "Bucky. It's poison, but it has an antidote! They used it on me when Steve-" she shook her head, "No, when Darya stabbed me."

She looked at him, red rimmed eyes wild with hope, "Oh my God." She yanked herself free from him and pressed her fingers deep into Steves neck. There, so faint as to almost be nonexistent, was a pulse.

"He's alive…" The words were barely audible as they fell from her lips. She turned quickly to Bucky, "We have to get that antidote! Within the hour or he really will be gone!"

Bucky jumped to his feet, "Where can I find it?" Natasha tried to stand, but suddenly felt the bite of the gunshot wound in her back and fell heavily back to Steve's side. Bucky motioned her to be still, ripping off Steves shirt and packing it into the wound in his chest. "You have to stay and guard his body." Natasha bit her lip but nodded, not willing to waste precious minutes arguing. She put pressure on the makeshift bandage and waved Bucky away, "Go to where they took me, I assume you figured that out already?" Bucky nodded. "Good. It's not far from here. It will be in the lab. Find it, and come back as quickly as you can!" Bucky took off running in the direction of the Quinjet.

Natasha watched him go, feeling sick with anxiety. She turned to Steve and settled herself against his chest, doing the best she could to tend to the wound there. She bent and kissed his forehead, a tear rolling off her cheek and splashing onto his. "Hang on Steve," she whispered to him, "Just hang on a little while longer."

Gingerly she reached around to touch her back, wincing as she felt the warm flood of blood flow over her hand in response. Steve wasn't the only one who would have to fight to live. She wrapped her arms around Steve, trying desperately to hold on to the hope that was keeping her conscious. She could feel her mind rearranging itself, the memories flowing back into place. They were connected, she realized, but it wasn't a tool of manipulation. It was a gift. His shield is on, she realized suddenly. She fumbled at his neck to find the chain that hung there. She pressed the star, and felt the shield turn off.

 _Steve? Can you hear me? Steve you did it. You found me._

A feeling of deep contentment filled her, and then faded into silence. Her mouth went dry as she listened. "No Steve you have to keep fighting." She shook him slightly, "We're going to fix this, but you have to stay with me!" Still she heard nothing. She grabbed his face, patting his cheek slightly, "Wake UP!" Tears rolled down her face in torrents, the silence pressing in on her, panic pooling in her chest. She leaned down and kissed him, her lips pressing into his, her eyes clenched shut trying to hear anything, any response from his mind.

"Well isn't this a twisted turn of events."

Natasha jumped, drawing her pistol in an instant. Anka grinned at her, "I wouldn't pull the trigger on that, not if you really want him to live." Pure rage filled Natasha at the sight of her old teacher.

Anka shook her head, "The Russian prodigy falls for Americas hero and yet somehow you seem surprised that it didn't work out." She shook her head, but put her hands up when Natasha leveled the gun at her face. When she spoke her words were hushed and deadly,

"He is dying. And I blame you."

"There is hope for him. With me. There is no antidote at the old location. Why would we leave it behind after you so kindly warned us that the Avengers were coming? Thanks by the way."

"Go to Hell.."

"Listen to me Natalia, I can take him to the antidote. We want him alive anyway, you know I'm telling the truth. We can fight it out here, but let's be honest-" She whipped out two of her own handguns and pointed them at Natasha, "You won't win. You're injured, slower, and if you kill me, you'll have killed him, again." Anka smirked. Natasha's heart sunk. Anka pressed her advantage, "Don't fight me, drop your weapon. Steve doesn't have much time."

"You'll use him to make super soldiers."

"Yes."

Natasha's mind raced for an answer, but in vain. Her own desire for Steve to live warred with what she knew he would ask of her. Protect the people. Do the right thing. She gritted her teeth, her eyes dropping momentarily to Steve's face, her free hand curling into a fist, tangled in his shirt. Without warning, Natasha fired, the discharge of her double tap echoing in the woods. But Anka was no longer standing there. Natasha's head whirled around but too late, answering shots making themselves known, two bullets burying themselves into her back. Natasha collapsed over Steve's chest.


	31. Chapter 31

"Valeria, do you understand how important this is? They have my friend!" Clint's voice was raised, his frustration with the young girls stubbornness apparent.

"I already told you what I know! I'm sorry they weren't there when you got there but there's nothing more I can say!" She glared waspishly back at Clint as he paced her cell.

"No. You're hiding something. Valeria, what aren't you telling me? There's another location? A new Red Room, is that it?"

Valeria's face hardened and she looked at the floor. Clint's expression darkened, "That's it. There's a new Red Room, they're starting over. Valeria-"

"No. I won't tell you anything more, I can't. They're all the family I have!" Valeria wrenched the shoulder of her tank top aside to reveal her hourglass tattoo, "I finally belong somewhere. I'm sorry for your friend, but I'm sure she's fine. Darya and Anka were obsessed with her, she's valuable to them."

At that moment, Bucky burst through the doors of the common area, creating a commotion outside Valeria's cell. Clint leapt to his feet and ran to investigate. Cradled in Bucky's metal arm was Natasha, limp as a rag doll and covered in blood.

"Help! Quickly! She needs medical attention!" Bucky's face was pale, but Natasha was completely devoid of color, her lips tinged blue. Clint leapt into action, picking up the phone and speaking briskly, "Nanali come quickly, and bring a stretcher. Bucky, where's Steve?"

Bucky looked stricken, "She stabbed him. She- There was poison and I shot her before I knew she was back-"

Clint looked enraged, "You SHOT her? You did this to her?!"

"No! I mean not all three times! Only once! I realized she was back in her right mind and that Steve needed an antidote but I couldn't find it and when I came back.." He looked down at Natasha in his arms and gestured helplessly, "Steve was gone and they had… and she was…" Bucky looked at Clint in desperation, "They have him. I don't know if he survived. I've failed him Clint. And if Natasha dies..."

Clint cut him off as Nanali entered the room at a run, "Put her down, give her to the doctor."

Nanali's face was grim as she quickly looked her over, rattling off information as she assessed it to her nurses, "Three gunshot wounds to the back, multiple abrasions, pulse located, but faint." She continued her list as they rolled Natasha out of the room to the hospital wing. The rest of the team came running into the room as they went, and all eyes went wide as they took in Bucky's appearance, covered in blood and clearly in shock. Steve's absence and Natasha's condition hung over them like a heavy weight, and for a moment, they all were silent.

Finally Tony spoke, "You shot her?"

Bucky spoke through gritted teeth, "She stabbed Steve, he was dying. When I realized it was her and not the evil Red Room version I stood down. She begged me to shoot her but I didn't."

Clint looked pained, "So the other wounds…"

"I can only assume it was the Red Room women. I found her with her gun in her hand, face down in the dirt. Steve was gone."

Sam put a hand on Bucky's shoulder briefly, "Can Natasha heal herself again? Did she get enough time with Steve to fully repair her abilities?"

Bucky shook his head, "I don't know. All I know is she knew what she had done when she spoke to me. She was a mess."

"So she might have needed more time with Steve to fully recover?" Sam looked at Bucky, who shrugged helplessly.

Clint pressed his lips into a hard line and spun on his heel back into the holding cell where Valeria waited. The team exchanged glances, but no one went after him.

Tony cleared his throat, "They have Cap. Dead or alive they have his blood samples. We can't have them using it for themselves."

Sam shook his head, "We don't even know how it worked for Natasha. Tony, you've done countless experiments with the super serum with no results. What makes them think it will work for them?"

"They don't know about me," Wanda said softly, "Some combination of my power, the serum, and Steve and Natasha's connection forged new capabilities in Natasha's body. They must have witnessed her healing and made the connection to Steve. They don't have all the information."

Bucky spoke, his voice low, "They'll bleed him out trying. What do you think they'll do to him when they figure out it isn't working?"

Vision stood, "We have no time to waste. We need their location."

Clint came marching out of the holding room, leading Valeria by the arm, her hands cuffed behind her back. She looked up at him anxiously, but didn't fight him, "Where are you taking me?" Clint ignored her, continuing his purposeful pace towards the hospital wing.

He kept his grip on Valeria tight as they made their way to the surgery room. He pressed her through the doorframe, forcing her to take a good look at the activity happening inside. "Tell me Valeria, what do you see?"

Valeria peered into the room with curiosity that slowly morphed into disbelief. Natasha was laying on her side facing the door as doctors and nurses prepped the gunshot wounds in her back. She was as pale as the bed sheets, her red hair falling into her face, looking more dead than alive.

"Natalia? How… What happened?"

"This is how your 'family' treats those who are no longer useful to them, or get in their way. If they were willing to shoot someone who you say is so valuable to them, what might they do to you?"

Valeria was shaking her head, her eyes transfixed on the flurry of activity taking place in an effort to save Natasha's life. "This can't be true. They went on and on about her, the best Widow there has ever been, they wanted to bring her back into the family. She had lost her way…"

One of the doctors pulled a bullet from Natasha's back, placing it carefully into a container with a plink. Valeria pulled free of Clints grasp, entering the room and leaning in close to see the flattened bullet.

"No rifling, soviet made…" she muttered to herself. She turned to Natasha with slow realization, her green eyes wide. "How could they do this to you?" she whispered, "You're Natalia Romanova…"

The steady beeping of Natasha's heart monitor suddenly flatlined, and the motion in the room increased tenfold. Clint snatched Valeria out of the way of the nurses, his grip on her arm tightening painfully. She looked up at him, but he wasn't watching her, Clints face was taut, seeing nothing but his friend before him. Valeria's expression softened, thoughtful.

Nanali sprang into action, quickly ripping Natasha's shirt open to make way for the defibrillator. The first shock made Natasha jolt, but the long tone of the heart monitor droned on unchanged. Valeria's wide gaze came to rest on Natasha's bare shoulder, and she felt her chest tighten. There, inked into her skin, was the Widow tattoo. Valeria suddenly felt ill. Natasha's tattoo marked her as a high ranking Widow, and the prestigious crown resting above the hourglass revealed her as the first one to be enhanced. It simultaneously marked her as part of the Red Room family, and set her apart as someone to be revered. And they had shot her. Valeria's mind raced, she knew she couldn't go back to the Red Room now, and if this woman died, she would be truly alone. No one would understand her like another Widow could.

A second shock jolted through Natasha's body. Clint looked away, unable to bear the sight of it, only to catch Valeria's expression. She looked haunted, her young face suddenly vulnerable and afraid. Her eyes flickered between Natasha's face and the heart monitor, a sheen of sweat breaking out over her forehead. "Come on Natalia," she muttered. A third shock hit, and Valeria's breath shuddered, "COME ON!" she yelled in desperation.

The heart monitor came to life, steady beeping making everyone in the room exhale in relief. Nanali watched the monitor grimly for a moment, then nodded. Valeria looked like she might cry, but she kept herself together. Natasha's eyes flickered open a crack, wandering unseeing until they rested on Valeria's face. She stared at her for a moment before her eyes shifted to Valeria's tattoo peeking out above her tank top. Natasha's eyebrows creased in recognition, and returned to Valeria, her dark hair framing youthful features, anxiety written all over her face. Natasha looked at Clint and struggled to speak. He came to her quickly, "What is it Nat?"

Natasha swallowed and tried again, "Protect her," she whispered hoarsely. "She's too young Clint, too young…"

"Don't worry Natasha," Clint whispered to her, stroking her red hair, but Natasha's eyes were closed, and she heard nothing more.

Nanali steered Clint back to the door, "We need to stabilize her, it would be best if you left us to it."

"Of course," he murmured, his eyes still on his friend. When he turned back to Valeria, her eyes were filled with tears, but she steadfastly refused to let them spill over.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know."


	32. Chapter 32

**_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you imagine will happen! Who knows, your idea might inspire me :) Also, feel free to post any prompt ideas you have for my Cap One shot collection!_**

 _Give him the antidote, quickly Anka!_

Steve was a pillar of flame. Everything burned, singeing his nerve endings, his muscles, his skin. The pain centered on his heart, pulsing, stabbing, aching. He tried to pull away from it, to withdraw into the blissful darkness waiting at the edge of his mind, persuasive in its cool silence, but a small yet powerful part of him batted it away. Young Steve, scrawny Steve, the kid from Brooklyn, scowled down at him.

 _You cannot give up. Remember, remember what you have to fight for._

" _I've been fighting my whole life. I can't always win kid."_

 _You know why you have to win. Remember._

Steve frowned as another wave of fire washed through him. " _I can't for much longer."_

Young Steve gave him a small smile, _You could do this all day._

* * *

Darya and Anka watched with a combination of anxiety and fascination as their subject writhed under the pain of Widow's Venom. Bound to both the bed and the iron ring in the wall behind it with double chains for added security, Steve still had not succumbed to the poison.

"How is he still alive?" Anka stared at him wide eyed, a syringe with the antidote poised and ready in her hand.

"Just thank God he is. Give him the antidote, quickly Anka! He's no use to us dead."

A male voice from the back of the room spoke lazily in Russian, making both women flinch, "Yes, and if he should die after you killed my best student, you two will be no use to me alive…"

Darya turned slowly to face him, his face hidden in the shadows of the room, "Ivan, she was compromised. She was lost to us. The serum was not."

"You better hope that you're right."

* * *

Nanali put a hand on Natasha's forehead with a frown, "She's burning up." She ran a hand down Natasha's back, the skin miraculously smooth despite the scarring of the bullet holes that were present not hours before. Clint leaned against the far wall of the room dressed in full tactical gear. Valeria had come through spectacularly, and they now knew the exact location of the new Red Room headquarters. As the team loaded the Quinjet, Clint had snuck out to check on Natasha once more before they left. He approached her bedside quickly, not believing what he was seeing. Natasha's wounds were healed. She slept fitfully, and a sheen of sweat dampened her hairline, but only scars remained where bullet wounds should have been. He put a hand on her cheek, "We're going to bring him home Nat, I promise."

Suddenly Natasha's hand snapped up to grasp Clint's, her eyes popping open. Clint's heart was in his throat, and could only stare at Natasha in shock. She stared back in stunned recognition and slowly sat up. When she spoke it came out as a whisper.

"Clint?" Her hand covered her mouth, then touch her forehead, as though she doubted her sanity.

"Natasha you're-"

"Alive," they said simultaneously. She threw her arms around him in a fierce hug that shocked Clint even further, how had she recovered so much strength so quickly? He pulled away and looked at her, his hands on her shoulders, "Nat, you were shot. Three times. Do you remember?"

"You and Laura! The kids! You were stabbed! Stabbed by… by…" Her brows furrowed as the events of the past few days returned to her.

"No one," Clint said gently, "You saved all of us. But Nat, Darya got to you before I could. I thought you were dead. I'm so sorry." He squeezed her shoulders.

"So Lila and the kids?"

"Safe. Thanks to you."

She stared at him, taking in this information, her face blank. "You're sure?"

"Positive. I saw them just this evening. Lila is beside herself with worry over you."

Natasha's expression softened, "Lila. Oh God Clint. I thought she had died. I thought all of you did. Darya told me-" She looked around for a moment, her mind racing until suddenly her eyes widened, "Clint they have Steve! Anka came and took him!"

"We know, Valeria has given up the location where they are at, we are leaving now. You need to just rest-"

But Natasha had risen from her bed, unsteady at first but rapidly gaining her strength. She found her gun on a side table where they had put the rest of her clothes and she checked the magazine deftly.

Nanali and Clint began to protest but Natasha gave them such a fierce look that both of them stuttered to a halt.

"Do not try to tell me I can't go. Those bitches are responsible for every terrible thing that has ever happened to me. They attacked my friends, my only family, they scrambled my memories. And now they have Steve. If you think they will keep him alive you're wrong. They'll bleed him dry and kill him, he's too much of a risk to keep alive. Just like I was. I'm going to kill them. Today."

"Nat, I understand. I am not feeling overly affectionate towards them myself, but you literally almost bled to death. You died, your heart stopped, not three hours ago!"

She rolled out her shoulders experimentally and shrugged, "I'm fine. Clint, if they kill Steve…" She looked at him full in the face then, and let her emotion leak through her mask. Clint looked back at her solemnly. Her eyes burned, a reflection of the turmoil that was stirring in her soul. Natasha was changed since all this had begun, she could no longer remain cooly above whatever conflict she faced, it was personal now. Clint saw how close she was to her breaking point, if Steve died… he shuddered to think of how it would effect her now.

"I'm compromised," Natasha said softly. Clint hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

At that moment, Valeria came running into the room, "Agent Barton, they're looking for y-" She stuttered to a stop when she saw Natasha. Natasha looked at her quizzically. Valeria looked star struck.

Clint stepped in, "Nat this is Valeria. I think you met once while you.. weren't yourself. Do you remember?"

Natasha looked into the face of the younger girl, a chill going down her spine. It was like seeing her younger self. "What is she doing here?" Natasha looked Valeria up and down, her expression growing cold.

Clint put a hand on Valeria's shoulder. Natasha glanced at his hand resting on the girl, then back to Clint, her expression demanding an explanation.

"Valeria has helped us to locate where Steve is being held. She has been most helpful." Clint gave her shoulder a squeeze. Valeria's eyes never left Natasha, her future resting on the other woman's opinion of her.

Natasha scowled, "She's a double agent Clint, a trained assassin. You can't take her at her word!"

Valeria flinched and Clint stepped forward between them. His voice low in warning, "She is no different than you when you came to us. Except she hasn't killed a man."

Natasha seethed. Leaning in close to Clint she hissed back, "If Steve dies, she will have."

Valeria got between them, alarmed, "Please! Don't fight, not now. We have to get to the Red Room right away! Decide my fate after it's all done." She looked at Natasha, "I'll do whatever it takes to make this right. Please, give me a chance."

Natasha looked down at her coldly, sweat running down her face and into her eyes. She wiped her forehead, her cheeks flushed. She looked at Nanali, "What's wrong with me?"

The older woman scowled but answered, "You have a high fever, but I have been unable to identify the source. You're extraordinarily healthy compared to where you were only two hours ago."

Natasha frowned, then closed her eyes decidedly. _Steve?_

She heard no answer, but a ghostly feel of aching limbs came over her, and her mouth pressed into a thin line.

"He's alive. They've given him the antidote. We don't have much time. They may already have drawn his blood." She touched her forehead, "He's the one with the fever…" Looking down at her wrist she saw that miraculously, despite all that had happened, she still had her shield bracelet that Steve had given her. She hit the star to shield herself, and instantly her fever began to cool. She looked grim, "Our connection is strong again, I'm basically healed, and it's my fault he's in trouble." She looked at Clint, then begrudgingly at Valeria, "Let's go."


	33. Chapter 33

**I know, I know, it's been AGES and I'm sorry. I've been travelling. But it is my firm intention to see this story through! Thanks for your patience and your reviews!**

Valeria sat aboard the quinjet, tugging on her cuffed wrist resentfully. She had been banned to the back corner of the jet and secured in place per Natasha's insistence. Clint had tried to reason with her, saying that she had earned the right to be free of the cuffs. Natasha would have none of it, and they had quarreled heatedly until Clint gave in to her wishes, apologizing to Valeria as he secured one wrist to the metal frame of her seat. "This is only temporary," he had said, "She's under a lot of strain."

He wasn't wrong. Natasha steadfastly refused to even acknowledge her presence, but then, she wasn't really interacting with anyone. Valeria watched as Natasha sat stock still in her seat, staring out into space, creases lining her forehead as though she were listening hard to something no one else could hear. Looking frustrated, Natasha stood abruptly and crossed the plane to grab her jacket, "What's our ETA?" She asked Tony impatiently as she stuffed her arm into her jacket. As she did, the shoulder of her shirt pulled down slightly, revealing the crowned top of Natasha's tattoo. The crimson color, like blood, caught her eye in the small mirror mounted on the wall near the bathroom where she stood. She froze, staring into it, before ripping the material off her shoulder for a closer look. Valeria cringed, this wasn't going to be pretty.

"What is this…" Natasha breathed, softly at first, as if asking herself, but then again more loudly, "What is this?!" She looked wildly around, taking in Clints bewildered look as he saw the tattoo. Natasha looked shell shocked, "No. I've seen this before," she muttered to herself. She whirled around to face Valeria, striding towards her quickly and roughly baring the girls left shoulder. Natasha's hand shook and she spoke through gritted teeth, "What. Is. This."

Valeria had gone ashen, "The mark of a Widow. They started doing them soon after you defected. We all have them."

"Natasha," Clint stood beside her, his hand reaching out and gently resting on hers where it curled into Valeria's shirt in a fist, "This isn't the girl's fault, let her go."

Natasha's mouth gaped and she looked at Clint in horror, still gripping Valeria, "I got away before they could brand me. So they hunted me down and did it anyway. Like they own me Clint. They marked me like property. I remember now."

Clints face was hard as he looked at the tattoo, "I know." He gripped her shoulders firmly, "Let's make the people responsible pay for it. Valeria isn't one of those people. Let go of her Nat."

Natasha's fist slowly uncurled, her eyes locked on Valeria's tattoo as if unable to look away. Finally she let go and turned away from Valeria without meeting her eyes. The team regarded her solemnly. Natasha took her seat methodically, staring at the floor.

"Touch down in five minutes," Tony's voice was cautious.

"Natasha," Clint started carefully, compassionately, kneeling down to face her at her level, "Are you sure you should be part of this mission? We can do this without you. You've endured so much..."

"I'm going." Natasha didn't look at him, lost in a dark memory.

"Nat-"

"I'M. GOING." She stood suddenly, looking down at Clint, "Only Steve outranks me, you can't stop me."

Clint frowned, "No I can't, but Natasha, you aren't yourself. You need time."

Natasha checked her weapon for the hundredth time, "I am exactly who they made me to be." The chamber of her gun clicked as she pulled it back, fully loaded, "And now they are going to get a taste of it."

* * *

Steve eyes opened slowly, disoriented, surprised to find himself alive. His limbs ached, his shoulders cramped painfully from being secured over his head to the wall behind him. His eyes scanned the room where he lay, and rested finally on Darya Sokolov, her predatory stare drawing him in. She regarded him coolly, eyes locked with his, seeming to be searching for something there. Apparently not finding what she sought, she became irritated, her lip curled in disgust, and she called in the direction of the door, "Anka, it's time."

Closing his eyes, Steve tried to orient himself. He had been poisoned, by Natasha. Natasha. His eyes flew open. "What have you done with Natasha?" Darya ignored him, and the woman who he assumed was Anka entered the room. She did not even grace him with a look, but went immediately to a shelf along the wall, gathering medical instruments onto a rolling table. Steve's mind was racing, trying to recall the events that had happened just before he lost consciousness. Natasha's face, murderous at first, but slowly becoming less certain; the pain of the knife in his chest being drawn out, everything was black; the distant sound of a gunshot. A cold fear gripped his stomach. He struggled against his restraints, coming to a half sitting position, "What have you done to Natasha?"

Anka rolled the table to Steve's bedside, deaf to Steve's questions. Placing a hand on his chest she firmly shoved him to his back. Steve's eyes popped wide with surprise, the poison had caused him to lose strength. Deftly she added a strap to Steve's forearm to prevent him from moving it at all, then applied a tourniquet. Quickly realizing what she was doing, Steve yanked on the restraints but to no avail.

"This will be easier for everyone if you hold still," Anka said, calmly eying the needle in her hand. Looking at him suddenly she grinned, "Not that I'm adverse to a little bit of a struggle on your part." Steve glared furiously at her, "Go to Hell." Anka leaned in close to Steve, nose to nose, "If it's Hell you're looking for, I think I can help." Quick as lightning, Anka's hand had balled into a fist and come crashing down onto Steve's face. Defenseless, Steve cringed as another came down on him, and still another. Anka paused to view her handiwork. Steve breathed shallowly through his mouth, his nose definitively broken, blood seeping down his face. He glared furiously at her through an eye that was quickly swelling. Anka was expressionless as she considered him, her knuckles stained with Steve's blood.

"Look at you. I can read you like a book," Anka spat the words at Steve, "You cannot even hide your hatred for me. If you were one of my students, you would have received a beating far worse than this one." Anka looked back at Darya, sitting in a chair behind her looking bored and impatient. "How did this _vyperdysch_ break our Natalia?"

Darya bristled, "I don't want to speak of her. Just get on with it Anka, so I can begin preparations for my dose."

Anka turned back to Steve, who had been listening intently at the mention of Natasha's name. She sneered at him, leaning close so he could hear her clearly, "Darya is interested in you for the serum that runs through your blood. I however, care more about what's in your head." She caressed his cheek, sticky with blood, and smiled dangerously, "What sort of Shield secrets does the captain of the Avengers have floating around in there? Stark tower passwords? Classified weapons data?" Steve stared levelly at her through his swelling eye, carefully keeping his expression blank. She cocked her head at him, "No? How about how you got Natalia to trust you?" Steve looked away, his mouth in a tight line. Anka shook her head mockingly, "Tell you what, you tell me about Shield, and I'll tell you all the dirty little stories about Natalia that I guarantee she has never told anyone. I can see that you care for her, so I'll just make sure you have all the information."

Steve bared his teeth at her, straining once more against the restraints, "Where is she?"

"She's a traitor. She's in a cell awaiting a traitor's fate. She missed out on it last time."

At Steve's horrified look Anka nodded, "Oh yes, terrible stuff. However, your cooperation might ease the hand of her punisher. What do you say." Steve looked at Darya, whose forehead had creased in confusion for only a split second before her face smoothed back to neutral.

"If I cooperate, you won't hurt her? How will I know you will keep your word?"

"You won't. But will you risk it?"

Steve choked back his rage, biting his tongue until it bled. He nodded stiffly.

"Wonderful! Let's get on with it then," Anka inserted the needle into Steve's arm with ease, and Steve kept still to allow it. His blood quickly began to spill down the tubes and into the awaiting bag, Darya watched it greedily. Anka sat in a chair near Steve's head watching the progress. "While we wait, why don't I tell you a little story about our dear Natalia?" She looked at Darya for her opinion, "Shall I start with her childhood training or jump right into her work as an assassin?"

Darya smirked, "Oh start with childhood training. Americans always have entertaining reactions to our training methods."

Steve stiffened, "She's already told me."

Anka smiled so widely Steve could have counted all her teeth, "Not these I'm betting. I'll tell you a story, and then you can tell me a Shield secret."

Steve snarled, fed up with Anka's games, "I won't tell you anything," he held Anka's gaze in suspicion, "I don't think you have Natasha here."

Darya and Anka exchanged looks, and a moment later a piercing female scream broke through the silence. Steve jolted in alarm, looking between Darya and Anka, his face white.

Anka calmly readjusted the needle in his arm, "Now, let me tell you a story."


	34. Chapter 34

"Natalia Romanova was not brainwashed into being a killer. She might swear it to be true but deep down she knows the truth. Oh we brainwash our girls to be sure, at least, that's what you would call it. We prefer… redirecting their thought process. Natalia needed no such treatment. She was born to be a killer. In the first year of her training she proved that. She was six years old."

Steve blinked slowly, feeling sluggish as more blood drained through the tube in his arm. Anka had been talking incessantly, painting a picture of early childhood training in the Red Room that sent shivers of revulsion down his spine. Or maybe it was the loss of blood.

"We were training her in basic headlocks, she was still training with other girls her age. Natalia was smaller than the others, and hand to hand was difficult for her at first. She lost her first three fights and spent many hours in the infirmary for it." Anka had a faraway look in her eye, as if nostalgic. "After a particularly brutal loss, and the beating that always comes after, something seemed to click for her. She paired up with one of the other girls, I don't remember her name now…" Anka looked to Darya, but she shrugged. "In any case, I was certain Natalia would lose. She was too small and didn't seem to be picking up the lessons. The objective was simply to get the other girl to pass out. If you do the headlock right it isn't that hard. But Natalia…" She grinned, "It was beautiful. She was so quick, suddenly seeming to grasp the basics. She swung herself onto the back of the other girl and got her right into the headlock. She never moved from that position, though her face turned bright red with the effort. I can see it all so clearly. The other girl flailed and struggled but couldn't dislodge her."

"Stop." Steve pressed his lips into a thin line, scrunching his eyes closed for a moment. "Stop, I don't want to hear anymore."

Anka ignored him. "Finally the other girl fell to her knees, which allowed Natalia to apply even more pressure, since she could stand up again. Natalia's eyes never left mine. I looked at her and I saw all the humiliation of her previous losses, her desperation and desire to belong. I gave her a nod, meaning that she could release, but Natalia took it differently. With a viciousness that surprised me Natalia swiftly twisted and broke the neck of the girl. She died instantly." Anka shook her head with a smile. "We were so surprised! We knew then she was something special."

Darya smiled, "She was surprised too I think. She just kept looking at the girl as if expecting her to get up. We took her into private training after that. Never had any trouble with her until she was a teenager and started questioning methods. She grew out of it." She looked over at Steve, his eyes were shut, his brow furrowed.

Anka gave him an innocent look, "Perhaps it's your turn then. Tell me, where is Nicholas Fury?"

Steve ignored her, slowly looking at her in disbelief, "You're a monster. She was a child."

"Now Steve," Anka purred at him, sealing off a completed pint of blood, "I thought we agreed to be honest with each other?" A scream from down the hallway made Steve jerk against his bonds. "He's dead I swear! His tombstone is in New York! Go see for yourselves."

Anka regarded Steve for a moment, then turned and handed the blood to Darya. "Run your tests." Darya smiled grimly and took the bag, and Anka repositioned the needle in Steve's arm to take more. Darya looked at Steve and noted his pallor, "Anka, give him some time to recover. I want more than just this sample." Anka sneered, and the two women began heatedly discussing Steve's treatment. Steve pulled carefully on his wrist strap, the sweat on his skin making the bonds slide slightly over his wrist. He pulled, and the strap began to slide over his thumb.

Anka turned to Steve again, her eyes flickering up his arms but Steve spoke, "Natasha is a good person. For all that you did to her, or are doing, you can't ever take that away." Anka looked at his face, distracted. "You think you know her so well," she leaned in over Steve, smiling grimly down at him, "Well we raised her. You don't know anything. We don't ask our girls to kill until they are fifteen. She did it on her own. She was a born killer."

A shot rang out. Anka cried out, clutching her right shoulder. As if by magic, Natasha appeared in the doorway, Clint close behind her. Darya made a motion towards her gun but not fast enough, Natasha sent another round into Darya's thigh.

"You have no idea." Natasha's voice was flat, her face stoic with cold fury. She looked to Clint, and he stepped into the room, his bow drawn on Darya, his eye on Anka.

The two women stared at her in shock, "You're dead," Anka gasped, the pain in her shoulder making her grimace. "Not dead enough," Natasha replied without looking at her. She looked at Steve, barely meeting his eyes. She took in his pale and bloodied face, the sweat covering his skin, the needle in his arm, and it enraged her.

"Natasha! You're ok!"

She gave him a stiff smile and a nod, then knelt and shoved a recording device in Darya's face. Pressing a button, a scream filled the room. Natasha didn't even blink. "You are sick for keeping these, for recording me in the first place." Natasha was unnaturally calm. Her face was pale but her voice was even. Darya saw murder in her eyes.

Steve looked bewildered, then angry. They hadn't had Natasha here at all, only a recording of her. He strained against his chains.

Darya met Natasha's gaze calmly with a smile, her hands pressed into her wound in an attempt to keep the bleeding down. "I'm glad you survived. I wasn't wrong about you. You really are the greatest student I ever trained." Quick as lightening, Natasha punched her and broke her nose. Leaning down she whispered, her voice deadly quiet, "I'm going to kill you in all the ways I know you fear. You should have left me in peace."

"Natasha," Clint's voice held a warning, but she ignored him. Steve struggled, "Let me out of here Clint. Clint's eyes shifted momentarily to Steve, and Anka seized the opportunity, her nimble hands drawing a blade out of her boot and pitching it at high speed into Clint's side. He staggered backward, clutching the wound, and Anka drew her pistol, pointing it not at Natasha, but at Steve. "Natalia my dear, I think you might need a reminder of who is in charge here." The muzzle of the pistol pressed into the skin of Steve's throat. Steve's temper flared, he was sick of this power struggle, of enemies playing Natasha and him against each other.

Natasha spoke, her voice choked with fury, "I will kill you for this." Anka sneered, "You've come a long way since six years old." Steve snapped. With a final yank his wrists were free of their bonds and he wrenched the gun out of Anka's hand, wrapping one arm around her throat, the other pointing the gun at her temple. He whispered fiercely in her ear as she struggled to breathe, "Should I shoot you like you shot Natasha? Or suffocate you like you made her do to that girl? Or break your neck? There are just so many options." He squeezed harder, causing Anka to flail and struggle as her face turned red, then purple.

Darya screamed in rage and threw herself, despite her wounds, at Natasha's back, managing to get her arms around her and pull her to the floor. Natasha nimbly sent her fist into Darya's wound, making her scream in pain and release her. Natasha pinned her to the floor with her knee, raining punches down onto her face.

As soon as Anka hung limp in his grasp, Steve dropped her unceremoniously, looked over to Clint who waved him off, "Get Natasha!" She was in a frenzy of blind rage. "Natasha stop!" he grabbed her arms from behind and pulled her up and off of the other woman. "Let me go!" Natasha screamed at him, wriggling free and heading back to Darya, who grinned despite her blood covered face. Steve put himself between the two women, his hands on Natasha's shoulders, "Nat look at me. LOOK AT ME!" Natasha glanced up at him, startled.

He spoke calmly, "You did it. You won. You don't need to do more."

Natasha shook her her angrily, "No, I'll kill her." She looked at Anka unconscious on the floor and then back to Steve accusingly. "I'll kill both of them." She made a move towards Darya again but Steve stopped her.

"Natasha LOOK at her! She laughing, she's happy. This is what she wants!"

Natasha jerked backwards away from Steve, yanking her shirt off her shoulder to reveal the tattoo, "They treat me like PROPERTY Steve! They will NEVER stop! They brainwashed me and almost made me KILL you!" Tears of rage started to roll down her cheeks.

"I know, believe me, I know. But Nat, if you kill them, they die happy in the knowledge that it worked, that you are who they made you to be."

"Well maybe I AM Steve. I have always been a Black Widow, and that's what I'll always be. The Russian wonder killer, born to be an assassin." Her voice was shrill and hysterical, "I did warn you when you got involved with me. I warned you."

Steve softened, dropping his hands, "You did. You're right." He stepped aside and motioned towards Darya, "God knows she deserves it."

Natasha leapt forward, kneeling once again on Darya's chest, her knife now drawn. Natasha saw her eyes flicker to the blade with just a suggestion of fear, but Natasha knew. "You never did like knives did you? Horrible way to die really." She drew the blade slowly across Darya's collarbone, a crimson ribbon following in her wake. Darya blanched, meeting Natasha's eyes. In them, she saw her own death. Darya smiled.

In that moment Natasha saw herself as Darya did. A killer, the greatest of all Black Widows, worthy of the symbol they had inked into her skin. For a moment all she could do was stare in revulsion. She abruptly got up and turned to Steve, handing him the knife. "Do what you will then." She went quickly to Clint, who was pressing his hand into his side to slow the bleeding. Without looking at him Natasha knelt and began dressing his wound. "You did the right thing," he said softly to her. She nodded once.

Seeing that Natasha was done with her Darya became incensed. "You weakling! Finish it! Finish what you started!"

Steve stood over her, a syringe in hand, his voice deep and threatening, "That's enough. Let's see how you like a dose of Widows Venom..."


	35. Chapter 35

Natasha sat on the bed where Steve had been held as her team came in to clean up the mess they had made. Darya and Anka were loaded in the quinjet, made immobile by the Widows Venom. She stared down at her hands, exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. She registered Steve's voice as he spoke to the others, his voice sounding as tired as she felt, "Take the antidote. We need answers, get them secure and then give it to them."

She felt the bed lean slightly to her left as Steve sat down next to her.

"Nat…"

"So they will survive. After all this they still get to live."

Cautiously Steve took her hand. "You did the right thing. You set yourself apart from them."

Natasha looked up into Steve's face, about to respond. She halted her thoughts when she saw him. He looked awful, his face covered in blood. Absently he wiped at his temple with a handkerchief in an attempt to mop up the blood. She stopped his hand, tenderly taking it from him, and began to do it herself. Steve watched her without speaking, wincing slightly as she touched on a cut. "Sorry," she whispered. The word sounded absurd to her. Sorry. After all that had happened. Sorry. Her hands fell to her lap, her face crumpling and falling forward slowly until her forehead touched his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she shuddered, pressing herself closer to him.

"Are you ok?" She whispered into his shoulder, "I thought I had…"

"You didn't." He squeezed her tightly, "I'm fine. And you? You remember… everything?"

Natasha didn't answer right away, but then nodded, her face pressing into the side of his neck.

Tony walked into the room and quietly witnessed their embrace. He nodded to Steve and motioned towards the door, "It's time to go. Let's get you both looked at."

They both stood slowly, Natasha supporting Steve as best she could, his loss of blood making him unsteady. As they left that place of nightmares behind, a lone soul watched in secret as they went, considering this turn of events thoughtfully...

* * *

Steve and Natasha spent the next three days recuperating, always together. Steve stayed in Natasha's room with her, not bothering to leave anymore, but pulling her in close, guarding her from the nightmares that she was certain were inevitable. That first night together they barely spoke. Once Steve had been seen by the doctor, they retreated to her room and slept, arms around each other, peaceful for the first time in what felt like months. The next day was spent much the same way. Natasha was clearly struggling to process, going quiet for hours at a time, but always staying near Steve. She held his hand, sat with his head in her lap, and occasionally dropped kisses on his forehead and cheek. Steve didn't push her or question her. They left their connection closed, each unwilling to relive the horrors of the last few days from the perspective of the other.

As they lay beside each other on the bed, Natasha stared up at the ceiling, focused on some far away memory, her fingers trailing up and down Steve's arm. Finally, she turned to her side, her cheek pressed into the pillow and looked at him. "Steve?" Steve lay on his back with his eyes shut, his hand resting on her hip. He opened his eyes in surprise and turned to look at her.

"I have questions. I was hoping you might be willing to… fill in some blanks."

Steve brushed the hair off of her face and tucked it behind her ear, "You sure you want to? We don't have to talk about it right away."

She nodded, sitting up in bed and looking cautiously at him. "I want…" She hesitated. "I need to see what I did." Her eyes lingered for a moment over his chest where she had stabbed him, then away.

Steve shook his head and took her hand, "There's no need. It's healed, no harm done. Natasha looked at him, "Steve. You know I have to see it." Steve sighed, distressed. "Nat.. I don't want you to feel…" He looked in her eyes and saw her resolve. She was not going to be happy until she had seen. Resigned, Steve peeled off his T-shirt and looked cautiously at Natasha. Her eyes flickered over his chest and rested on a shiny purple three inch scar that puckered over his left shoulder. Natasha's eyes widened, and her fingers brushed over the mark, soft as a butterfly.

"Steve…"

He pulled his shirt to his chest to hide the mark from her, "It's fine Natasha, it healed really quickly, as always."

"But it scarred! You don't have scars!"

"It will probably fade."

"Why didn't it heal completely?" Natasha's voice was hushed, "Why is the one injury I caused you the one that marked you?"

"I don't know Nat. I really don't." Seeing her devastated expression, Steve wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "You didn't get out unscathed either," he said into her hair, "This isn't something that you did, this is something that happened to us. Nat… Show me the tattoo." Steve felt her tense in his arms, but waited for her to respond.

"I hate it," She said, not moving from his embrace, her voice heavy with bitterness.

"Show me," he whispered. Slowly she sat back, her eyes cast down. She tilted her chin up towards him and away, sliding her hair off her shoulder. She waited. Gently Steve slid her T-Shirt off her shoulder, sliding his finger along the neckline to reveal the crowned crimson hourglass inked there above her heart. Natasha watched his face warily from the corner of her eye, searching for any negative reaction. His eyes flickered over the mark, taking in every aspect of it. Suddenly a soft smile turned up the corner of his mouth.

Natasha frowned, "What could you possibly be smiling about?"

Steve touched the hourglass gently, sending goosebumps over Natasha's skin. He met her eyes, "I know they intended this to mark you as belonging to them, but you've gone and made it stand for something else." Natasha gave him a confused look. "No really," Steve said, looking again at the tattoo, "You are the only one with a mark like this, the crowned hourglass. They wanted it to mean that you were the first of your kind. I think that's still true."

Natasha pulled back from Steve, pulling her shirt back over her shoulder, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you made the decision on your own to be something other than what they raised you to be. You've done it twice now, once with Clint when he found you, and once with me."

Natasha gave him an incredulous look, "I'm still a killer Steve. I'm a child soldier turned assassin."

Steve nodded and shrugged, "You were. But I really believe that the only thing that matters are the choices you make today. Who are you starting today? Your actions tell a different story. The tattoo reminds me of that."

Natasha absently rubbed the spot on her shoulder where the tattoo was. She sighed and took his hands, "I suppose. I still hate it." She eyed his scar mournfully, "I wish things could just go back to the way they were before all of this." Her voice was hushed and her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears, "We were just starting to get things right." Steve's expression grew thoughtful, and then pained.

"Nat, you know what we have to do. We have to suck out the poison."

"What do you mean?"

Steve gestured to the chain around his neck and her bracelet, "We've let them close us off."

Natasha instantly felt sick. She slid off the bed and started to pace, agitated. Steve watched her for a moment before adding softly, "We were doing well before because we had finally started to be open. They've closed us off but we can get back to where we were before."

Natasha stopped to face him, "There are things that you will see that will make you angry." Steve thought of his treatment in the Red Room, the way he had completely lost his temper with Clint and Tony. He grimaced, "It will be the same for you. It will be painful for us both. But once it's done.." he shrugged. "We can talk things out, get past it."

"And will we? Get past it?"

Steve swing his legs over the side of the bed, leaning forward towards her. He let his eyes roam over her, his gaze took her in, head to toe. She stood perfectly still, her arms crossed, watching him. Steve pursed his lips and looked away, "I hate that you would ask that question."

Natasha dropped her hands, "Steve.."

"No I'm serious. What do you think? That we went through all of this together just to what? Give up?"

Natasha's voice raised, "No! But don't you think a sane man would quit while he's ahead? You survived me this time, but there's no guarantee about next time!" Her voice dropped again, "I wouldn't blame you Steve. I wouldn't be angry. I would genuinely understand."

Steve stood, angry now. "And is that what you want from me? We should just end it here and go our own way?" He pulled his shirt back on, turning his back to her.

Natasha stared at his back, at a loss as to how to respond. She felt defensive and angry, but over it all, she felt her heart starting to break. She knew that wherever he went, that's where a piece of her heart would be.

"I don't know."

Steve turned to face her at the tone of her voice, angry and broken all at once. He stared at her, and the expression on his face burned away her indecision. His blue eyes burned with pain and love and a vulnerability she hadn't seen before. Natasha couldn't bear it. She ran to him, crashing into his chest and into a kiss that nearly crushed her. Steve kissed her fiercely, his hands tangled into her hair, pressing her backwards until her back was against the wall. He pulled away from the kiss, his voice harsh and angry, "Tell me what you want."

And suddenly it was perfectly clear to her, the obstacles falling away, "You," she whispered, "I want you forever." Steve kissed her again hard, his fingertips tracing down her arms and around her waist. He pulled away again, "Say it again."

"Steve, I love you." He took her face in his hands, wiping away tears that rolled down her cheeks. "Again," he whispered, his eyes locked with hers, gentler now. Natasha held his gaze despite her desire to look away. She drowned in the blue of his eyes as she said once more, "I love you. Never leave me." He hugged her then, burying her in his arms, folded tightly against his chest."I don't want to survive you woman," he said, his hand going to the back of her head, "I want to live and die for you and with you, and kill anyone and anything that gets in the way of us." A fire burned in Natasha's chest at the sound of his words, and she shuddered and pulled him closer.

He shook slightly, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. Without letting go, Steve reached for his necklace, and Natasha her bracelet, both wincing as they did, anticipating the onslaught of memories. Together, they turned their shields off.


	36. Chapter 36

Their minds immediately whirled in an overwhelming onslaught of memories. They each saw and felt everything from the perspective of the other, and they clung to each other tightly to anchor themselves, as if they might be blown away by the force of it all. Natasha felt how difficult it had been for Steve to leave her to hunt Darya on her own, and the sickening realization that she had been taken and tricked into opening the door of the panic room. She felt his heart harden, his determination not to let another woman he loved die. She watched in awe as he lost his temper over and over, getting violent with both Clint and Tony, frightening Wanda. The heartrending, soul sucking grief he felt when he thought she had been killed. He was a different man now, she realized. Harder, more ruthless, less black and white.

Steve's face crumpled in pain as he forced himself to see what Natasha had been through. Not only did he see her true memories, but also her false ones planted by Darya and Anka. His chest tightened as he watched himself stab Natasha and force her to watch as he killed Clint and his family. It was all he could do not to draw away from her, but he forced himself to watch on. He experienced all her confusion and rage, felt her hatred for him, he didn't blame her. The black anguish of waking to find she had stabbed and killed him, and her desperate desire for Bucky to finish the job as she stared down the barrel of his gun and saw only relief in it. He made a quick note to himself to thank his friend for ignoring her pleading.

Steve saw and bore it all, clinging to her to remind himself that she was fine, that they were safe. His heart stuttered when he realized that Natasha HAD died, her heart stopping there on the table. He buried his face in her hair. As the memories faded, Steve and Natasha found that they were sitting on the floor, arms and legs tangled together in a crushing embrace. Natasha slowly loosened her hold on him, taking a deep purposeful breath and resting her forehead on his. Steve took her face in his hands and they sat there for a moment in silence.

"I love you," Natasha whispered, placing one hand over his heart and his scar. The hair on Steve's arms stood up and he shivered, slowly pulling Natasha in for a slow, purposeful kiss. She responded eagerly, pressing herself closer as if they could merge into one person. An electric current seemed to run between them, giving them both goosebumps and speeding their pace. Steve stood abruptly, lifting her without breaking the kiss and dropping her onto the bed. He kissed her again, his weight settled heavily onto her, and tears pricked her eyes. She could hardly believe they were both alive, together, and so incredibly in love. But something nagged at the back of her mind, clearing her thoughts as she realized what she needed to do. Steve kissed down the side of her neck making her waver in her resolve, "Steve," she attempted, but it came out in a whisper and he didn't respond, only kissed down her shoulder, and then to her tattoo. "Steve," her voice cracked slightly but was louder this time. "Mmmf," he responded noncommittally, beginning to kiss lower…

In an instant she had flipped him to his back, and she straddled him, looking at him firmly. He stared up at her in surprise. She smiled despite herself, pressing her lips to his palm to soften the sting. "Steve," she said softly, "There's something I need to tell you before we… Well I just have one more memory to share with you." Steve sat up cautiously, running his hand over his face to regain his composure, "Sure Nat, what is it?" She looked into his eyes, her expression serious.

"When I died…" Steve grunted and turned away from her, but Natasha took his face into her hands, redirecting him back to her, "Steve, when I died there on the table, I saw something. I know you believe in God, and I never really have, what reason did I have to believe? I still don't know if I do now but… I want to show you what I saw." She had his attention, and he nodded, "Ok Nat, show me." Natasha opened her mind to him, and Steve stilled instantly. It was hard to put to words, but he saw a light brighter than any other he had seen. It pierced into his soul and lit every corner, no matter how dark. He felt how Natasha had shrunk away, afraid to be seen for who she was. The light seemed to sort through her life, rearranging her until all was in it's proper place. It seemed to regard her a moment more, not with judgement but with the deepest love. It held up a memory, a moment in her life, and Natasha had leaned in to see it clearly. It was the moment she had decided to do good. She looked at the memory, and then peered, squinty eyed into the light. It enveloped her, as if in an embrace, and she was overwhelmed with a feeling of love and a sense of being suddenly, and incomprehensibly sacred. And then it faded.

Natasha watched Steves face as he saw everything. He looked at her in awe. "Natasha…"

She played with the hem of his shirt, avoiding his gaze. "That sacred feeling… it comes back when I'm with you. Not as powerful as back then but still, I feel it. I think we were supposed to be together Steve. As if," she struggled around the word, "God… or whatever that was... wanted it this way." Steve gazed at her solemnly, raising her chin to meet her eyes. She took a deep breath, "Steve, I feel like being with me has made you harder, it's taken a toll on you." Steve made to object but Natasha put her hand on his mouth, "No it's true, I saw it for myself. I want to be a good influence on you, and encourage you to be the best man you can be. Steve the peace I felt… I want to give that to you, I want to give myself to you, and I want it to be sacred, dramatically different from the men I've been with in the past." Her face flushed red, and Steve's eyes widened. He gently touched her face, "Nat. What is it you want?"

She looked at him and gave him a timid smile, "Will you marry me? Can we do this the old fashioned way?" Steve's face was radiant, and he pulled her into a crushing hug. HE drew away, "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this because you think I'm old fashioned."

Natasha laughed, "You ARE old fashioned, though you were doing a pretty good job umm compromising just a minute ago." She grinned at him impishly, giving him a wink.

He laughed, "I'm old fashioned, I'm not a saint."

"Fair enough."

"But seriously Nat. this is what you want? And you want to.. Uhhh.. wait? For everything?"

Natasha smiled but nodded seriously, "The only way I can give you something I've never given another man and never will, is to marry you first. It will be the start of a new era, for both of us."

Steve was at a loss for words, he just smiled and squeezed her hands.

"Which means…" she leaned in slowly and pecked him on the lips, "You should probably go back to your room for the night."

Steve blinked, "Really?" She nodded, "I'm new to being old fashioned. I refuse to mess this up."

Steve smiled and stood up, and Natasha walked him to the door. "Will you be ok? No nightmares?"

She shook her head, "I doubt it, not tonight." He kissed her once more in the doorway, making her head swim. He smiled at her and turned to go, she watched as he walked down the hallway to his room.

"Steve?"

He turned.

"Leave your connection open?"

He smiled, "Always."


End file.
